When one finishes work for two weeks, or a week, or even a weekend (if you detest your job that much) there is usually a feeling of joy, elation and relief, for you are about to spend an amount of time away from the stress, or boredom of your day to day life.
Obviously I've had time off from work before, I know these feelings; the joy, the elation, the relief. As you shut down your computer and walk towards the door you smugly say your goodbyes to your work colleagues, knowing that they will have to plug away whilst you go and live.
Today was different, yes, the weekend is ahead and yes, I will be having two, three or maybe more weeks away from the building I seem to spend the majority of my conscious life. But the circumstances are different than normal, I'm not going on a holiday, to a festival or even spending the week relaxing and playing golf - if, indeed, the two can be embraced simultaneously - but I am going to the hospital, the Royal Gwent one to be exact.
As mentioned both on this blog and in real life many times over the course of the last few months, I will be having a laparoscopic nephrectomy, which, when translated into English means the removal of a kidney via keyhole surgery, obviously I didn't know this before I knew I was having one, why would I have? So I'm having keyhole surgery to remove a major organ, amazing isn't it - how they can remove a major organ using that method - doesn't sound true, but it is, Monday morning.
Yes, Monday morning, and the day seems to have come round incredibly fast since I was given the date five weeks ago. I'll be honest, I haven't really thought about it much, talked about it yes, many times and to many different people - far too many to recall - but talking is completely different to thinking. Only these past few days have I started to think about it, mainly in the shower - when there is nothing to take my mind off it - apart from washing of course, I mustn't forget to wash.
Thinking isn't always good and it's not something I've always necessarily endeavored to participate in, but sometimes it's impossible to avoid and like I say, I've started to more recently as my fears and nerves which were once deep in my subconsciousness have started to surface.
I understand I'm not the first person ever to have a kidney, or indeed any other organ, removed and that each day there are hundreds of people across the country facing much bigger and 'important' operations than I am. But in my world this is pretty big, the whole idea of being put to sleep and then have my skin cut open is foreign to me and only when I say it out loud, or type it (as I have just done), do I begin to panic, just a little. My main fear is the anesthetic wearing off before it should, the thought of waking up mid operation is enough to strike fear in even the bravest of people let alone a country bumpkin mummy's boy like me.
That said, when the surgeon has finished cutting through my flesh and removed then organ, I am looking forward to the rest. My body, which seldom gets a rest from various sporting activities, has recently began to feel more and more tired, suffering from years of wear and tear, after all, people who exercise for fun rarely get any rest, as opposed to professional sportsmen, who are able to treat their body with more care.
So the rest will be good, I've got plenty of books to read and films/TV series to get through over the coming weeks/months and that's not to mention championship manager - the 2000/2001 edition. I will also, without doubt be updating the blog detailing past accounts from the golf course, cinema and hotel rooms in Stockholm.
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