There is something almost poetic that my hospital treatment draws to its close in the spring - my final 'nuking day' is mid-May by which time the trees will be green and we will have already enjoyed rhodedenrons and cherry blossom.

I am now almost eight weeks post surgery and pretty much back to normal energy and strength levels.  My concentration has recovered (phew!) and I spent most of yesterday working on the faffy parts of finalising my MPhil submission (yes, I know, it's dragged on interminably but I have a good excuse!).  I actually enjoyed writing the extra, administrative, pages and proof-reading my paper (well the part I got through) and concluded I was quite clever once upon a time.

I was intrigued by the 'six week' recovery that was - and usually is - cited for major surgery, thinking it seemed a rather arbitrary figure.  At about two weeks I could not imagine being anywhere near fit at six weeks, but the truth is that I pretty much was... arm movement almost normal, energy levels good, concentration recovered.  All of which makes weeks 7 and 8 - the gap before nuking starts - all the more precious and special.  A bit of gallivanting (or gadding about, whichever expression you prefer); a bit of thinking and editting of an academic paper; a bit of pausing to admire the view.

There is a sense of spring awakening after winter... I will soon have to start combing my hair (shock horror!) as it grows back steadily... I am walking further and exercising more determinedly... I am longing to get back to work as my mind is filling with ideas...

I am fortunate, in a perverse way, that my 'journey' has largely paralleled the seasons and by summer I will be free to enjoy the sunshine (albeit with lots of sunscreen and long sleeves ever after).