A post before bed

Here I sit at the computer, listening to Ian Bostridge sing Schubert. An Die Musik is the track playing right now. So beautiful: it goes straight to the heartstrings. Music brings me such joy, such pleasure, and so many emotions. I can never have too much music.

It is very quiet tonight. My son, his children and my daughter have all departed, and my other daughter arrives tomorrow for a few days. I am glad to have their love, help and support. (They were very bossy. Talk about role reversal!) But I am trying to get back to being a functioning human being, even though for the next few weeks I will be limited in what I can do.

The shoulder and the afflicted part are still sore and rather painful, and I may not lift my arm above my shoulder. This makes getting dressed and undressed a little tricky, and loose fitting clothes are easier to get on and off. I fear that I will be wearing the same things for some weeks to come. But I can manage to fasten a necklace.

The pacemaker seems to kick in quite frequently, and it seems it could take a while before I get used to it, or for things to settle down. It feels as though I am having panic attacks. This is what the isolated occurrences felt like too, so that I kept asking myself why I felt as though I was in a panic, knowing perfectly well that I was not. I feel somewhat fuzzy mentally, which might in part be a reaction to all the drama and to the anaesthetic. Better to have this problem rather than something nasty in the brain.

My daughter saw a couple of my neighbours and let them know of my problems, so they both called across this evening to see how I was. Very kind and nice people, they are.

It will be interesting managing without a car for the next month. I don't drive very often, as so many shops and services are local, and mostly I walk or travel by bus. But I might have to miss choir for a few weeks, as it is located on the other side of the city, and I'd have to get there and back by bus and train. I expect it will all work out.