Since I knew about my operation for a long time before the date came around, I had a lot of time to start planning everything I wanted to achieve in the two weeks sick leave I was going to get afterwards. After all, who gets two weeks off work any more? Or rather who, at my age, has the luxury of taking a full two weeks of holiday when most of their time off ends up being used as travel days around weddings, and “girly weekends” and – I dunno – Christenings? I feel like the next one’s going to be Christenings.
But here I was with two whole weeks to use as I pleased. I usually feel a little bit bad leaving people to cover for me at work, but as I was literally being cut open (just because it was only a centimetre does not mean it doesn’t count) I gave myself a break from the guilt trip and focused on all of the great things I was going to achieve instead:
Watch everything on Netflix
I mean. I watched a lot of Netflix, do not get me wrong. Sometimes I even betrayed them and used my sister’s Amazon Prime account (shoutout to Mrs. Maisel). But I have a Netflix list that’s hundreds of hours long, and it turns out I have absolutely no concept of how much TV a human being can watch in two weeks when they also have to sleep, occasionally be in pain, or do literally anything else. Which is a really long-winded way of saying I made it through two and a half seasons of Gilmore Girls and a couple of episodes of Friends, although one of those episodes was Ross & Rachel’s breakup so that counts for at least five. I really thought I’d manage more, though. I guess, like Icarus, I dreamed too big.
Start writing a bestselling novel
Not exactly, but I did watch the Oscar nominations and imagine what I’d say in my acceptance speech for Best Adapted Screenplay for the movie version of the book I didn’t write and that’s basically the same, so…
See some parts of Cornwall I hadn’t seen yet
Turns out, when they remove an organ, you are sometimes less-inclined to go on adventures than you might otherwise be. Especially if you were not renowned for your adventurousness to begin with.
Sit on the beach and read
I had this on my list of things to do even though I knew full well that I was going to be off for to weeks IN JANUARY. Fascinating.
Tell that to the scarf I started two years ago that’s still only two inches long.
Write a diary of every single day of my recovery
“Dear diary, today I changed my pyjamas and ate a ham sandwich. Maybe I’ll have a sandwich later. OH MY GOD I CANNOT CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT.”
Maybe next operation. You know, once a few more actually-Cornish people learn Cornish so I have someone to talk to in Cornish.
Take up sketching
After which, I would magically transform into the kind of accomplished Victorian lady who is revered in parlours all over the land for her set of creative-but-not-threatening talents.
I’m actually starting to think I was looking at sick leave as some kind of finishing school. Since it has been a full fortnight since I have crumbs in my hair and it has been a full-fortnight since I last put on a bra, I am here to announce that it is not. Hands up who’s surprised! Just me? Fair.