Wibble wobble wibble wobble

Well, still no pain. But a funny looking boob, for sure! It’s probably bigger than some ladies have their entire life. But it’s full of fluid. And of course, because of the scarring, it’s an odd shape. I could probably convince someone I had been bitten by a shark or some such similar far-fetched story! It wibbles like a waterbed and I have to try really hard not to want to squeeze it til it pops. Those that know me will know my strange fascination for spots and pus and similar!

I had been warned it could happen, but thought I better check in with the hospital today. I phoned and they said it’s normal and to leave it til later in the week and see what happens. They can drain it with a needle but apparently that increases the risk of infection. So I will do what I am told.

The scar is healing amazingly well. I am delighted.

Just got back from the Christmas Drinks Do I organised for 50 people. Everyone was suitably wowed that I had my op only just over a week ago and so that gave my already huge ego another boost!

I did have a down day yesterday – not all day, but it was the biggest wobble yet. The man and I went to Winchester Christmas shopping and I got to looking round a particularly lovely little shop that sells housey stuff. I was daydreaming. It made me so so sad that I have slid so far back from having a lovely home in just 6 months due to this crappy stupid cancer. I so desperately want my cottage in the country and to be able to buy the odd little thing in shops like that. I am in no way unhappy or ungrateful at SJ’s but I want my home. Not the flat that I had…yes, only me there, but never became home. By this time next year, I am gonna get me a little cottage in the country where I can run my business and make fudge and have beautiful and useful things. Watch. It will happen. I’ve decided.

Anyway, I digress. I ended up having a full on cry, snot bubbles, cleared the make up, talk nonsense ‘moment’ for about an hour. Poor Neil did remarkably well not to call the men in white coats. He let me prattle on, hugged me, kissed me, wiped my tears and then forced me into the kitchen to get the roast going. Yes, forced me. Terrible, eh? hahahaha. Very nice it was, too. I did the spuds in goose fat and they were scrumptious if I say so myself!

Right, I need to be in Blandford for 0700, so at 2145, it’s time I put the laptop away. Nightie nightie xxx

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