On to less morbid things...
As today was Sunday, it was a CIMA day. It's nice to be back to doing something vaguely normal and productive. Even I do have to wear a towel round my face to stop me from dribbling on my trial balances.
Other baby steps I taken today included drinking a pint from a pint glass. Unfortunately, it wasn't a pint of beer, but I'm glad to be saying goodbye to the syringe. I'm also talking a lot more now and am able to have conversations in English as opposed to grunts. Even the cat understood when I was calling him in earlier.
One thing on Graham's blog that I never really paid much attention to was the fact that I should expect to be able to breathe through my nose better after surgery. Apparently this is because having a ridiculously big bottom jaw causes the mouth to hang open, and thus mouth-breathing. This supposedly deprives the nose of air to smell. It is true. My sense of smell has been so acute over the last couple of days. The true olfactory delights of the world have been revealed to me. The mother cooked a spag bol last night and the house has stunk of basil since. I never expected to be able to smell basil so acutely, but it really is a minor miracle.
Either that, or my nose has found Basil, and I'm in line for £20k from Scotland Yard.
My sister-in-law came round with my two youngest nieces. They're chicken-poxed up, but they made me a "Get Well" badge.
Speaking of baby steps, I was worried that the youngest niece (just had her first birthday) would be terrified of my enormous face and weird voice. I needn't have been. She toddled over to me, taking a couple of steps without holding the furniture. It turns out those were her first steps! Cute.
Today's menu was forked pear for breakfast, then cottage pie for tea.
As you can see, the liquid diet has largely died a death. So probably so have my ambitions of extreme weight loss during my convalescence.
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