Good days.

Someone told me I should chalk up every good day as a good day at the end of it, as a good day was a good day. They told me it more succinctly than that but I like it.

The thing is every day has been a good day so far. I can really see my progress - the noises in my head are far less frequent today and it feels like my head is much more aligned. I got some proper sleep last night for the first time in ages, and have had a lovely day with my dad, which I never would normally get to do.

Today has been different though as I've been so exhausted. It's the first time I've felt unable to get off the sofa, and I've pretty much been sleeping the whole day. I think it may be to do with the new feeling that my head is healing and I can relax a bit more when I put it on a pillow. I can actually let go enough to sleep. And I feel much better for it.

If I keep progressing like this physically I'm confident I can get my strength back in no time. There is some weakness in my right arm but it comes and goes. It happens mainly in the mornings and makes wielding cutlery difficult. I have my rehab in the form of a knitting nancy - it really works! And typing too, which I am doing a lot of.

The thing I need to work on is my concentration. If there are two noise sources in the room I can't focus and my brain gets jammed. Sometimes my brain jams itself and I just can't take in new information. And I lose words, which is disconcerting. 

It's early days but this is something that I need to get back. 

But a good day is a good day. And this has been another one.

Staples and scars and a sweepstake.

I made an appointment this morning at the doctors surgery to take the staples out of my head. It's on Wednesday and suddenly that doesn't seem very far away.

I realised that I have been kept quite sheltered from the goo and mess of surgery. When I woke up I was clean, and apart from bruises on my wrists from the cannulas, there is no sign to me of the carnage that must have gone on. There was the drain... but thankfully that's now gone.

The scar is currently covered by a series of plasters, which look quite neat and tidy. I made the mistake of looking at some scars on the tinterweb before going into hospital and scared myself silly by the frankenstein nature of them. I have never thought of myself as the squeamish type before this but suddenly when it's your own head it seems different.

I'm not worried about the scarring long term, just how it looks while it's still healing. There must have been lots of blood and goo - what if it is all still stuck there when they take the plasters off? And will it hurt? Jeez I am such a wimp with pain anticipation.

So - to the important bit. I'm holding a sweepstake for how many staples are in my head. Would you like to participate? Strictly speaking it isn't a sweepstake as you don't win anything. But you get to have a happy glow that you helped distract me from the thought of staples being pulled out of my scalp.

This morning before college mum stood on a kitchen chair and took a photo of the plasters on my head, for you to study, with interest. This must have been a good photo opportunity in itself. See below:

Place your bets... NOW! Either leave them in the comments or contact me direct and if enough people reply to make it interesting then I'll put up a table. It may become more of a voting thing, I haven't really thought this through.

Update: see entries so far here - http://henriettafish.blogspot.co.uk/p/sweepstake-entries.html