Day 13: Saturday March 23rd

1:15am - and a great big 'thank you' to the herd of jolly young guns who decided to chuck snowballs at all the front windows of the house. We were all asleep. Thank you indeed. You ran off, whooping and yelling obscenities at eachother. I woke up with a nasty jolt, thinking I still lived in Costa del Winyates, and nearly opened a window to join in the shouting.

ASBOs ready, please...

Glass + snowballs + gravel = bumps and possible cracks.
No thank you, not today.

Fortunately, the hoo-hah only disturbed C1 and C2, and neither actually woke up properly. I, on the other hand, am now wide awake, ready for action, and cannot sleep. Memories of concrete coming through the garden fence, dog mess smeared on car windscreens and lovely neighbours yelling at me about stupid territorial rights make calming down somewhat tricky. I thought I had forgotten all of that.

Stitches still sore,  so the last paracetamol goes down the hatch at this Godforsaken hour. 

Snow has fallen, and been slushed by the rain. Good.

Closer examination of one of my keyholes reveals a bit of an angry red splodge. Vow to 'keep and eye on it' till Monday, and see what happens. It is sore and itchy. I hope it is not infected. 

Snow stops play. 
Plan A became Plan B, then swiftly moved on to Plans C, D and now we have Plan E. 

Trampoline-moving - off. 

Kids to Auntie Kate - off. 

Slow-cooked lamb shanks and jam roly-poly reward meal for the trampoline mover extra-ordinaire (Mr 1957) - off. 

At home all day, heating fired up, crochet, films, no grumping from small people, popcorn, hot chocolate, and yep - you guessed it - yogurt and Bovril for the Mummy. 

All good. Even the sore keyhole site is now unsore.

The promise of no snow in the kitchen,
a bacon and avocado sarnie and a mug of tea,
and there is one nutter in this house who wants to be cold, wet and outside. Good work, C1 !!! :) xxxx

Charlie Snow - abandoned for the love of bacon..........

Thank you - over and out. :)

Day 12: Friday 22nd March

Snow has arrived. Not as forecast, but enough to remind me of Michael Fish and his careful prophesies!!

"There will be no hurricane tonight..."

Weights and measures day comes around very quickly - the machine says I have lost another 8lbs this week, making it all seem worth while, and 4" off my waist and boobs.

There will be the occasional setback!
Instead of giving up, simply start afresh the next day.
You are planning to change the rest of your life...
and this will not happen all at once.

Another little blip last night to remind me of taking care of the bits in my soup! Unfortunate revisit from Mr Dry-Heave, causing distress to me, C1 and C2. Had to go to bed, leaving them to sort themselves out - not happy with this situation. When I had recovered enough to be able to move safely (!) I discovered 2 sleeping children, who had gone off to the land of nod without a hug and a kiss from me. I felt distraught. 

Dark clouds overhead - no Mummy kisses.

Better this morning - in most ways. C1 happy in her skinny jeans ("yes, mummy, they do count as school uniform!") and fake Uggs, and C2 hopping off to Mrs Fisherman's wagon seeking knowledge of a Roman kind. 

Mrs Fisherman returns from the school run to a much needed hug and a mug of hot coffee. Diaries are compared, and we work out that soon I should be able to drive again, and start doing school runs. I have been feeling out of the loop, and feel the need to get back into the 'helping children get to and from school' malarky etc.

Mrs Fisherman has gone to the shops, and has agreed to visit the cashpoint for me, and buy me some caster sugar and some spreadable butter. C1 and C2 will be having toast with butter and Marmite later, and the option of some kind of cake over the weekend. I hadn't planned for them to be here with me, but the best will be made of the situation, and hopefully there will be no fighting. 

Mrs Fisherman will be returning to me later on, before the afternoon school run, for further hot coffee, some serious gossip, maybe a viewing of some kind of zombie film, and general hiding from the world with the curtains shut (mutual agreement!).

I can't see them, so they can't see me.......

The cashpoint visit is necessary as C1 needs new school shoes urgently, 

Not quite up to Imelda's standards, but C1 is working on it...

and C2 needs larger wellies.

Also urgently. 

Auntie K is sorting all of this out tomorrow, as long as Michael Fish-esque snow-storm and poor weather conditions stay away. 

The sore tummy is back, so it is fluids only again, more paracetamol, and not too far from the loo please. 

Crochet day. Woop.

Day 11: Thursday 21st March

Thursday dawns: bloody alarm didn't go off, so all of us sleep in until 7:30! 

Poached egg on toast (C1), chocolate Ready Brek (C2) and a cup of tea (me) sorts out the morning scuffles. Uniform, shoes, bags and children all encouraged out of the door with hugs, kisses and promises to work hard (them) and not to lift anything (me).

Now I can breathe out, and try to ascertain how I really feel today. The night was spent in and out of the bathroom with my good friends Mr Dry-Heaving and Ms Runny-Bum - I thought we had agreed to have an amicable separation! 

Keyhole sites very sore again today, and a tad itchy. Have found 2 spare portions of soluble paracetamol, which will be on their way into my wobbly-legged body forthwith.

Then I will tackle Stage 1 of the washing up. (Washing up is quite a challenge at the moment - it takes 3 goes, with sit-downs in between.)

Have decided to have music on around me today as an effort to boost my mood. 

Nothing like a spot of Sex Pistols (Submission), Will.I.Am (T.H.E), Chumbawumba (Tubthumping) and the beautiful Paloma Faith (everything please!) to get the old mojo up and running around the house. (Imagery could get a little out of hand here!) Bring on Doris Day!

Que sera, sera.... whatever will be, will be!

The old grey cloud on top of my head is here on a short visit, accompanied with that bloody Black Dog. Go on with you - do one. I don't want you here any more......

Learn to recognise signs and triggers, also know when to give a bit of space.

I think a pyjama day is on the cards. Keyhole sites are all in places where underwear rubs on them and makes them feel even more uncomfortable. So today, dear reader, I am letting everything hang out! Ah that's better!

Mine, all mine!!!

Have the weekend sorted, so C1 and C2 will be spending Saturday with the lovely Auntie K, laptops, school-shoe-shopping (girly-style) and returning to me later with hopes of a lovely big trampoline to test out. 

Snow is forecast, but I hope and trust that Mr 1957 is going to be able to help with this. I will be supervising and holding lightweight items like bolts, bits of netting and allen keys. 

There is the issue of whether the Easter Bunny will be visiting this establishment this year. I expect that we are on his list, and have mentioned the possibility of a successful drop-off next weekend! 

Music lifts the mood successfully. Good work.

Now to the knitting chair. 

A beautiful piece of writing lifted from Facebook sums it all up perfectly.

No danger of any sentimentality in this house today, but some rather good-natured ribbing, some picot edging, and a teeny flirtation with thicker soup later. All is well in the world - well it is here, anyway. 

Day 10: Wednesday 20th March

Today starts at 3:30am - why?

The pressure is on to complete 2 baby blankets by Thursday - beautiful cotton/bamboo mix, and I have slacked off (for very obvious reasons) and need to get the mojo back.

Not the real thing -
but further work is needed
to complete this Work In Progress!

C1 and C2 awaken from their slumbers to the aromas of bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes on toast (C1) and chocolate Ready Brek (C2). Happy children, on a go-slow, but it is Wednesday and all is well.

The keyhole situation is still tight and sore. I start to wonder why. Was it the small box of teabags that I carried from the front door to the 'special teabag tin' in the kitchen? Could it have been the piece of old mouldy cheese that I extracted from the fridge and put in the bin? Or was it possibly the medium sized child that I gave a mega-hug to last night as he dropped off to sleep? 

In this case, the hug wins. I will take my paracetamol and get on with 'stuff'.

Mr 1957 calls me wondering whether I fancy a 'bit of fresh air' today. This sounds like a wonderful plan, and when he mentions driving me up to the Lickeys for a little wander to the monument, I jump (in a fashion!) at the offer and accept. 

Hat, gloves, trainers, and something to park my bum on.....
Beacon Hill, Lickey Country Park.

Trouble is brewing for the weekend. I have made plans, in the safe knowledge that C1 and C2 will be spending quality time with their Daddy. Unfortunately, it appears that Daddy is unwell, and is not confident that he can care for C1 and C2 from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon as they do every other weekend. This is a disappointment on several levels.
First and foremost, they look forward to seeing him and spending time with him. 
Secondly, I have a nasty case of Cabin Fever, and have made the plans necessary to relieve this, child-free, including 'doing' the trampoline run, seeing my lovely friend H and wishing her well as she takes up the challenge of retirement from her teaching career, not having to be on call to C1 and C2 for a couple of days of my recuperation (I do love them both more than the world, but the prospect of a couple of days off is always welcome), and having a proper lie-in!

I feel unkind thoughts clouding my positive vibe - I have been caring for C1 and C2 with stitches, a knackered immune system, no lifting or stretching, no driving, no solid food, hardly any calories, and it seems that whatever ails the BabyFather, it is not going to be possible for the children to see him. He is not answering my calls, so I will be trying later to establish whether a full on cancellation of everything is in order.  Sorry, but the unkind thoughts won then. 

Back to normality now. There was a tiny rumble of appetite 5 minutes ago - Bovril required. Then I must get dressed. I have half an hour.

Lickey was cold, windy, not raining, and bracing. I managed to get from the car to the castle, climb up and look at the metal map thing, climb back down, then go all wobbly legged and pathetic. Back to the car so that Mr 1957 can purchase a hot pastie while I make a cup of tea. 

Daddy is still unwell, and I have now made plans for C1 and C2 to remain with me for this weekend, with a short excursion to Auntie K's for the day on Saturday, to enable the Trampoline Mission to take place.

All is well, and my lovely long-term friend Tressle finally made it over here for coffee, nattering and general putting the world to rights. 

I am fully aware that C2 is in my bed, but as I am beyond tired, he can stay there just this once. C1 is in her bed, good girl.

Tomorrow is Thursday, and I have SO much knitting to do........ this project is never-ending. 

Good night, dear reader. 

Day 9: Tuesday 19th March

Morning starts early, as usual - 5am means no more sleep, and I decide to take a shower, and check the keyhole wounds.

Silly idea. Note to self: before peeling off half-sticky old wound dressings, check that there are enough left to replace with new. Ooops. Now have 5 unprotected wound sites with no plasters on. Paper stitches exposed, and no sign of them dropping off yet. To cap it all, all are sore, tight, and feeling somewhat uncomfortable today. 

No icky bits, thank goodness, but still..........

No bloody wonder it is still sore and hurty...

I do have an option to place children's plasters on them - but cannot face the thought of such cartoony nonsense on my belly...

No thank you...

So instead I decide to cut up a couple of spares from Auntie K. Pleasing result...

Keyholes 1 & 2...

Keyholes 3, 4 & 5...

C1 was unkind again before breakfast, partly due, I fear, to raging hormones, partly due to stupid 'practice tests' at school (read: how to wind up a whole year group by making them anxious about meaningless assessments which are not even the real thing), and partly due to the fact that she is still tired and emotional, with a tummy ache that is 'much worse than your stupid tummy' .

At this moment, I lift my pyjama top and flash the glory that is my bruised, lumpy, swollen and stitch-covered abdomen. C1 is not impressed, and after being asked for a hug, throws herself at me in a stroppy kind of 'OK then, here you go' - nearly knocks me over, bumps my stitches, then flounces back to destroy an innocent pancake. Oh God. 

C2 is ploughing his way through his share of the pancakes, ignoring his sister's attempts to draw him into the fracas. 

Paracetamol down to the last 2 - am going to push the boat out and take 2 at lunch time. 

Mrs Cystitis seems to have gone abroad. Excellent. 

My lovely friend Assisi pops over after the morning school run for a cup of tea and a natter. The discussion ranges from annoying kid-habits, new chickens, men who can't tell the truth, and how to ignore washing up. It is so nice to see people - the cabin fever is starting to edge it's way in, so I must be on the road to recovery!

Somebody get me outta here.........

Mind you, due to the aforementioned keyhole wound sites, lack of protection, lack of decent underwear that doesn't rub/chafe/inflame the sites, and the fact that it is bloody chilly out there today, I will sit tight here, with the heating on, in my baggy pyjamas. 

Knitting never felt so essential! 

Update: not a stitch of knitting has been done today - some sleeping, yes. 

Day 8: Monday 18th March

So - after a disturbed night's sleep thanks to C1 (Mummy, I can't sleep, I am worried/feel sick/cold/hot/bored/tired) I wake up at the usual 5:30am, to find a dead shrew on the floor.

Not the actual shrew, but I'm sure you get the idea...

Dead shrews are always carefully placed, as they are tributes to the Furbaby-Mummy. Unfortunately, they are always carefully placed just where I put my foot when I get out of bed. (Pause for imagery of squelchy defunct rodent between toes).

7:30am brings a wail from C1 - she is overtired thanks to her nocturnal wanderings and bids to sleep in my bed (to no avail) and to top it all she is sick. Lovely.

Thank the Lord - I borrowed some from the hospital!!!!!!!!!

C2 is also under the weather, so a maternal decision is made (reluctantly, as I have a fiendish amount of knitting to complete today) and I phone both schools with the news that both my children are skiving toads and need whipping into shape as soon as........

Children aside, my keyholes are still remarkably sore. I am sure that this should not be the case now, but will be monitoring it carefully today, and consuming a regular input of soluble paracetamol.

Sunshine improves the mood all round today. If C1 and C2 perk up enough, I will send them outside to breathe in some fresh air, and say farewell to the teeny tiny trampoline in the garden. This is about to be replaced by a suitably larger trampoline which I won on ebay last night. It was a scary sight, on Saturday, to see C1 and C2 playing 'Cracking The Egg' together, with their legs and heads hanging off the edges of said trampoline. It is now far too small. So it has to go. 

Tiny but perfectly formed - now on eBay!

That said, I have now asked Mr 1957 for his able assistance in driving me to Henley-In-Arden, dismantling Giant Trampoline for me, putting bits in his car, and driving me and GT back to the homestead and re-assembling. This is a big ask, and I will be offering petrol money and a slow-cooked lamb dinner as a bribe. 

Saturday's mission.....
to bring home from Henley-in-Arden and re-assemble...

Happy to announce that both C1 and C2 are perking up enough to manage to sit on the sofa and watch some telly. C1 is actually contemplating doing more on her Gambia project for school, so am not fighting this...

Today I will be mostly eating yogurt and soup. The yogurt is made for me with love, by my lovely mummy.
The soup is all my own work, consisting of blended leftovers. Tastes fantastic!

My soup.
Blended left-over roast potato, yorkshire pud, peas, shepherd's pie, gravy and carrots.
Truly delicious - REALLY!!!

Just been on a little walk-ette down to the post office.

500m tops. Knackered, but the sun felt good on my 

face, and the cashpoint card gave me a teeny bit of 

joy.  Going for a lie down now!

A lovely call from BN Karen and this confirms that all is still on track, and I am doing great. Happy.

Day 7 F-R: Sunday 17th March

Hello Sunday! 

Hello hurty tummy! Guess who forgot to have their paracetamol before bed last night?

C1 and C2 are away in the land of nod. This kind of Sunday morning is good. I, however, have been awake for hours, and no longer find the situation amusing.

Bloody achy legs are back, and so is my arch-enemy Mrs Cystitis. What the hell?

Apparently my breath smells too horrid to allow anyone under the age of 90 to sit near me. This is somewhat disconcerting. I have brushed my teeth and tongue within an inch of their lives, swished and spitted with the minty green liquid from the bathroom, and concentrated on peppermint tea. Still an unholy flavour to my exhalations.

Ketosis. 
My darling brother mentioned the word yesterday as we celebrated our mummy's birthday round at her gaff. 

He was mopping the kitchen floor with bleach as C1's friend Blue-Gem had just unexpectedly deposited vomit all over it.  B-G then went outside and vomit appeared again, so it was decided that the visit should be curtailed and B-G should be deposited back at her house before any germ warfare begins. 

What Is Ketosis?

Ketosis is the name for a state achieved in a low-carbohydrate diet. 

When you are in ketosis, it means your body is burning fat for energy. 

When you eat a low-carbohydrate diet*, you minimize the amount of blood glucose present after you eat. In the absence of blood glucose, the body does not release insulin to return to normal blood sugar levels. 

With no insulin (which is a fat storage hormone) present, your body burns stored fat as its primary fuel. 

When that happens, your body releases ketones into your bloodstream, and you are in ketosis. 

This state may cause a host of temporary symptoms. It will also show up in your urine as ketones.

*OR ENFORCED LOW CALORIE INTAKE DUE TO BARIATRIC SURGERY!!!!!

Understanding Ketosis Symptoms

Many dieters** develop ketosis symptoms that let them know ketones are present. 

For many people beginning a low-carb diet**, ketosis kicks in after a few days with minimal carbohydrate intake. 

**OR BARIATRIC SURGERY PATIENTS IN EARLY RECOVERY!!!

Symptoms of ketosis include the following:

• Tiredness or fatigue   YEP!
• Headache   YEP!
• Feeling thirsty all the time   YEP!
• Dry mouth   YEP!
• Ketosis breath, which smells not terribly pleasant  YEP!
• Metallic taste in the mouth   YEP!
• Weakness   YEP!
• Dizziness   YEP!
• Nausea or stomach ache   YEP! YEP! YEP!
• Sleep problems    YEP!
• Cold hands and feet   YEP!
• Frequent urination   YEP! (INCLUDE HERE THE ADDED JOY OF MRS CYSTITIS!)

Well, I guess that sums it all up nicely for today.  
Day 7 For Real, and I feel the need for Bovril.

No appetite at all, but I will rise to the occasion and produce some delicious Sunday lunch for my lovely C1 and C2 to enjoy.

I feel a spot of salmon, mash and parsley sauce coming on. 

C1 and C2 will be delighted. 

Day 6 F-R: Saturday 16th March

Another day dawns - far too early for my liking, but once awake, it is an impossible task for my brain to switch off again.

So it's downstairs, retrieve empty glasses, bowls and rubbish left behind last night by C1 and C2, assemble a line of washing up to do, put 5 eggs into a pan to hard-boil ready for lunch with the lovely B and her children (Soup for me of course), and locate dirty school uniform to feed to the laundry monster.

Had a little cry this morning. I feel full of regrets again that I couldn't deal with this in a less drastic way. Not helped by feeling wobbly and queasy again. 

The less drastic option - tried for 20 years......

C1 has a vicious tongue in her head at times. My tears came before her apology for stating how boring I am, how boring it is that we have no money, how all her friends have 'normal' families and that we never do anything fun or go out. Her second prong of attack goes along the lines of 'if you were still with Daddy it would all be alright.' I feel the need to bite back, but resist. Even Daddy would probably agree that the times we had running up to the end of the chapter - 2 and a half years ago - are not something either of us would like to repeat. 

Sad time, but moving forwards is good...

The new turn that Daddy and I are tentatively creeping along feels good and right. Amicability and sensitivity. 2 different home bases. I cannot expect C1 and C2 to understand such a finely balanced (and easily unbalanced!) arrangement.

Guess who is the biggest pebble? :)

The stitch-sites are a bit sore again this morning. I have no appetite, so have insisted to myself that I have a little bowl of runny yogurt and a cup of sweet tea. Ah that's a bit better. Day 6 For-Real is going to be a day of sticking to rules, looking forward, and hopefully finding a way to pop over to see my Mummy on her birthday. We have made her a present, which, as it is a home-made one, she is bound to appreciate. I would like to see her open it. 

C1 has disappeared upstairs, full of the pangs of pre-teen angst having made me shed a few tears. The huggy apology was enough to start me off again. 

C2 has just appeared in clean pjs, indicating to me that there is further nourishment for the laundry monster this morning. 

Hi ho, hi ho, where's the teapot, warm socks and my knitting?  

My teapot was made by my lovely brother and his wife.....  *

* http://www.jamesandtillawaters.co.uk/

Day 5 F-R: Friday 15th March

Another weigh-in and measure-in.......

Fast approaching the 3 stone loss milestone - in 3 weeks, this is downright scary.

Inch-wise, since the day before my first operation, I have shrunk in the following way.....

Calf: 2.5" gone
Thigh: 7" gone
Hip: 5" gone
Waist: 3" gone
Bust: 2" gone
Arm: 4" gone
Neck: 3" gone

I could colour in a nice graph, but don't feel like it, so there.

C1 went to school in her onesie today, with black Uggs, 3 red hearts painted on her face, and a red nose.

C2 was slightly more conservatively dressed, due to being on a school trip to some Roman remains today.

Chedworth Roman Villa

My night's sleep was a little disturbed - after settling C1 into bed with her chick-lit book, and C2 having the usual attack of announcing that everybody hates 

him, he is bored, he is dying of thirst, and 

there is a shadow like a spider on the ceiling  

which is only moved by dismantling half of a chest of 

drawers, beating the ceiling with a rolled up towel, 

and heading for the sanctuary of my own bedroom

 while sticking fingers in ears and singing 'la la la I 

can't hear you - you will go to sleep if you shut up. 

Close your eyes and have a look at what your eyelids look like from the inside!!' - after dealing with that, my achy legs return again, and a tight, sore bit of keyhole every time I move. In the end, once there is an atmosphere of calm and sleeping children, I decide to come back downstairs, flirt with a mug of hot Bovril, knit a few rows and see how this changes things. 
Sleep comes.

Still rather concerned about the fact that although I had been taking anti-depressants for 7 years prior to the first operation, as I am now on fluids only, and have been for 3 weeks, I am unable to take them. Cold turkey can't be good, can it?

GP suggests that maybe I should concentrate on healing after not one but two major abdominal operations, and let the mind sort itself out. Back later on this one...... 

On a happier note, the cystitis now seems to have given up and slunk off behind the garden shed. Stay, you beast, stay!

I anticipate, now that I have done the washing up, a day of dozing, a little bit of knitting, ignoring the fluff building up on all floors, and looking forward to C1 and C2 coming home for a weekend of not much but love, hugs, a bit of fresh air and a play date with my lovely friend B tomorrow. 

Extra bit: C1 and C2 finally arrive home. I am in a state of complete frustration, due to my self-imposed standards of household order. The fluff on the carpet has finally got the better of me. C2 brings the vacuum cleaner downstairs, reluctantly, and they both sit and watch as I lose my plot and do what I and they know I should not be doing.

10 minutes later I am feeling faint, sore, sorry, and embarrassed enough to slope off upstairs for a little lie down. I leave C1 and C2 with raw pizza dough, some random toppings from the fridge, and the instructions to 'sort out your own tea'. My mood is dire.

I immediately fall asleep, and wake half an hour later to crushing guilt. I reach for the bedroom phone, and test out the Int 2 'phone home' option - it rings and rings downstairs, with nobody answering it. I try a few more times, partly congratulating C1 and C2 for not answering the phone if I am not about (which I have instilled in them since they were able to swing on a phone cord), and partly feeling really cross because I want to be able to boss them about from the luxury of my bed. 

Finally, C1 gives in and answers. When she realises it is me, she immediately passes the phone to C2, who prefers not to touch it, in case it impedes his progress on Level 96,995,332 of the idiotic robot internet game. I instruct them to continue with the pizza project, apologize for being a 'silly tart' and threaten to come back downstairs soon for a cuddle and a film. My randomness wins, and the mild feeding frenzy is over. 

My tummy is still sore from the bloody vacuum cleaner, which is now stowed back under the stairs. I am sorry, stitches, it will not happen again. 

Now - where did I put my Vimto?