This coming Wednesday will mark four weeks since my hysterectomy. It has been a long journey coming – this hysterectomy and with all the ailments that I had experienced over the last 20 years, including low grade cervical cancer, I could not have been happier seeing my uterus ripped out and put in the bin. That said, I am grateful that these organs allowed me to birth my two sons. They are the joys and absolute headaches of my life. I would (like most mothers I am sure) take a bullet for them and they always know that sanctuary of any sort will always be home for them. But a hysterectomy at 37 you say? Yes, I do admit that Google will tell you that this surgery is quite early in my life, but after two decades of agony, constant pain, bloating to the size of looking like I am six months pregnant and the fact that I had finished have all the children that I desired, it really was a no brainer. We live in rural Victoria. Our main town, Mildura has a hospital, and I was aware that ...
It's been a bad day. Not a travesty, but a day of anxiety, overload of emotions, countless puffs from many a ciggies and all in all just a bleh. Where the fuck has 2020 gone? How did we get from free world to lockdown and oppressions and wearing masks???? I burnt my 2020 planner, close with my 2020 diary, because why the fuck, hey? Let's just write this year off as a mistake on a humanity scale and start fresh in 2021. Funnily enough, I bought a $4 2021 diary. So there may be hope. My beloved is struggling. Which means that I am struggling, Seeing him in pain, no sleep, swelling joint agony, depression and all the things that entail chronic illness. I'm at a loss as to how to help him, I just sit and be with him and tell him every day that i will be by his side till the rest of my days. At least 2020 has shown us this: What actually is important in our life, What actually matters, like really really matters, The latest model car o...