The results from my blood tests were fine, and so I was officially discharged from hospital shortly after 1pm. My wife and daughters came to pick me up, and after some emotional goodbyes to the nurses and doctors who’ve been looking after me so carefully, we headed for the car park, where I received my first shock.
I may have felt like I was ready to take on the world, but in practice, I struggled to walk as far as our car. By the time I’d got there (perhaps four or five hundred meters) I was exhausted. It was as much as I could do to climb in and do up the seatbelt. Euphoria took over again as we drove home, especially once we got off the motorway and I was able to wind the window down and feel the fresh air on my face.
But once home it was as much as I could do to take a quick turn around the house before I had to go and lie down. Where I promptly fell asleep for most of the afternoon. So the reality of the situation is clear – my consultant was most definitely not exaggerating when he told me it was going to take me a good 3 months from the date of my operation to recuperate.
But at least I can do so with my family around me, which feels wonderful.