Post-op

It's been a strange week, culminating in me deciding to leave Scotland for a bit and head back to Wales for a short time. This decision was mainly due to boredom at having nothing to do; no current job and my climbing partner cancelled. More on what I've been up to later.

I'm unsure if the operation was a success just yet. My eye is still sore and I don't want to annoy it by trying to make it see single with normal glasses just yet. Last time it took a few days to adjust so I'll wait until the pain is no more. Might even post a pretty post-op pic if I can find it.

I don't really remember much about the day itself apart from a few strong memories. I remember being jabbed with the biggest syringe of propofol (an anaesthetic that's also used in vet med) I've ever seen. I recall waking up and moving beds. Some of the walk home is also in my head somewhere, although that was a little hazy.

One of the main things I remember is the feeling of relief knowing someone was coming to find me to take me home. Not someone who would drop me in Leith and leave me. Not someone who would pretend it was 2010 and I'd been in a coma. Someone kind and sensible who didn't take one look at my blood filled eye and run away screaming. Thanks :-)