Have just got off the phone with Mr Propermal. He hasn't taken any pain relief at all today and neither have I. He is only using paracetemol now anyway, but of course does still have to take a handful of other pills. Mrs Propermal had a very busy day at work so he has been fending for himself, making porridge for breakfast, fixing himself lunch and previously banned snack of cheese on toast.
Back to clinic for him tomorrow, he needs an infusion of one the post transplant drugs, plus they will check various levels in his blood. He is just about ready to do a degree in pharmacy with the knowledge he has developed during all of this, whereas I tend to go a little blank.
I braved my first Spanish class, which went fine and I'm sitting typing this with no dressing on the wound at all. "Letting the air get at it" as my mum would have said. Felt a bit freaky at first, my imagination being a little to graphic at times - visions of goobly bits spilling out. But then as Mr P remarked, a little bit of plaster was hardly going to hold my guts in. Children of course thrilled to bits that I'm letting it all hang out. Luckily none of us is too squeamish.
