Part 2.... Chapter 21

Good day thoughts. I’d love to say I’ve been up early washed my hair, got dressed, took off for a walk down Caswell Woods with my dog, had a takeaway breaky on the prom etc, etc, etc.
But alas no, not today. Not for any foreseeable future day in factual terms. Today I’ve been down to x-ray and scan. Sometime this week I’ll be popped back into the nosey MRI scan capsule, probably for about 20 minutes.
I’ve been back here at Morriston for a week now, and after closer inspection with MRI the damage done is in great need of scaffolding engineering. Not the news I wanted to hear but its news. News with a catch. The surgery can only be done at Llandough Hospital back in Cardiff.
A stone’s throw away from Rookwood. If I had chosen to stay in Cardiff for surgery, it would have been done by now and I’d be back at Rookwood carrying on with my physio. I tut loudly with eyes rolling. I’m just waiting for a date to leave here and go there....
I haven’t written anything for a while. It has seemed pointless really. Everyday has been another ground hog day for me, but not for the ward. 
I did eventually get a room. It’s nearly three weeks and I’ve been stuck here on my back waiting for a date from Llandough Hospital. Everytime I’ve asked my surgeon, the consultant and head nurse. The answer is always given as, ‘We’ll know tomorrow’. I have raised my voice over this matter of waiting and the reason I’m waiting is because the Surgeon at Cardiff is on holiday. It’s taken three weeks for that information to come through. It’s like living in the fuking dark ages with 21st century communication breakdown.

I’ve been under a dark, heavy cloud for a while. I can’t say it’s been following me around, but it’s been relentless and I suppose inevitable. It’s right above me. Pushing down its weight of not so fluffy clouds inexorably.
This place has taken me back to the beginning. The first time being told I wouldn’t walk again. Now I’m back here I feel so low with so much never ending pain. I’m finding it hard to bring out my fight.
All my life when the balance has been rocked an action was needed. The fight-or-flight response in me has always been the fight. Of late it’s the opposite, it’s flight. I feel weak. I don’t want to be here. It was supposed to be my death on the 16th July 2007. That was my fate. Only medical intervention kept me alive. All life has done since that date is build me up to knock me down again and again. It’s the story of my whole bloody life.
I’ve even taken myself and my little witch doll Molly to the hospital chapel. Well, we were pushed down and into the chapel while on the bed and took up much of the room. I just lay there listening.
A close friend called in to see me. Telling me that her mam and dad were praying for me and our Irish friend now back in Ireland had even more people praying for my health and fast recovery. I tell her and only her, that for the first time I’m not feeling strong enough anymore mentally, and physically it's not worth putting into a sentence. I don’t want to carry on…. She sharply tells me to pull myself together…. I love her even more for that. I needed reminding of who I am.

​Good and reassuring energy found its way back to my aura and was restored into me on 31st October, New Year’s Eve, Samhain (pronounced 'sow'in').
My daughter and partner had gone to Caswell Woods to pick some fresh vines to bring in so we could do our traditional New Year’s ritual. With all the other bits and bobs to join my crystals. Good memories, honouring those who have passed. Autumn has arrived and so has the time for reflection, renewal and spiritual self-balance….

November 15th is todays date and tomorrow being the 16th will mean I’ve been here lying flat and super still for the past four fuking weeks. 
On Tuesday 13th I was told that it would be either Wednesday or Thursday that I ‘Could’ be transferred to Llandough. It was good to finally have some news on my next move. After all, I came back to Morriston on the 26th October and although a possible date is close, I have a feeling I won’t be going on the dates given.
Wednesday and Thursday sailed by with no news on leaving Morriston. Thursday afternoon Mr ‘Bad to the Bone’ came to see me and said it ‘Should’ be today or tomorrow to Llandough. He wished me well and that I deserved it. With that he was gone in a flash, leaving a puff of smoke behind him. As usual, he had no time to listen to what I had to say. Just as well lol.
It’s Thursday evening now and I’m still here. As I lay in bed I’m hoping it’s going to be good news in the morning, and I’ll be leaving this pit of hell. To be taken from the realms of its ‘We can offer you nothing’ and taken to a place of hope and renewed back surgery. A hope, this time not in disguise hopefully ????.