Tuesday 28th October

I'm going home tomorrow, or is that today! The last couple of weeks I haven't written cause it was all pretty much the same stuff. But I cant sleep and this hospital room seems to be shrinking. The daily journey pretty much goes like: Breakfast, get up, exercise, get tired, sleep, lunch, exercise, feel depressed, get tired, Dinner, wash and get ready for bed.

The days have been broken up by bad TV, numerous dressing changes, baths, and visitors, lovely, lovely visitors. Vicky, Rebecca, Anna, Sue, Shaun and Joji, Annette, Mum, Dad and Dylan. All bringing respite to the boredom of healing.

I wanted to go home last week, but Mr Valham wouldn't let me because the open wounds on my legs were still a bit sticky and septic, but he relented on Friday and let me have a "weekend pass". One night at home in a real bed was wonderful but it was also hard. And made me realise that maybe I wasn't ready to go home, more importantly it made me question whether mum and dad were ready to have me home.

Although I'm getting up and moving around I still need so much help, I cant move quickly and have little or no strength in my right arm, my fingers still struggle to close and open properly and I'm so tired after doing the most basic things. Angie said today that I have done really well. That when they brought me in, very few of the staff thought I was going to make it through the week. So apparently I'm a testament to my own determination. I actually feel like a freak, a fraud and a failure. But that could be the morphine withdrawal talking, I'm not allowed to go home until I'm off the big stuff, luckily I'm being supplied with my own little cache of take home drugs.....