I begged and cried at him to take me home. He left in a worse state than me. It was a horrid day.
I don't understand why I am here. I just want to go home, back to the West Suffolk and far away from the surgeon who was callous enough to try and tell me what he would do in my position. He has no idea and had given it little thought or consideration. It was unkind.
He has also undermined my confidence in ability to cope at home with just HWISO. Just now I am very angry. But not as angry as I am sad.
I want to see my quilt in the muted light of home, not reflected off the stark white and pea mint soup colours of this room. And not through a positive waterfall of tears.