For once, I ain’t got much to say.

Bless me readers, for I have sinned. Its been nearly four weeks since my last blog post. I have no excuse other than sheer laziness and well, the whole lack of having anything of interest to share.

Since my last update I’ve been back with the surgeon and given the all-clear to return to work, which I did on Monday, this week. It was emotional and draining, to say the least, but I’m glad to be back in the saddle. To be honest, I kinda missed the humdrum of normality and the daily routine. I missed being in Dublin with the boy. I missed my friends here too. Despite being in mucho pain still, it was time to return.

As for the girls, well, Lefty is looking mighty fine. Only a few external stitches left to dissolve and she’s all good on the healing front. Unfortunately, Righty is still struggling, but getting there. She’s like the proverbial Ugly Duckling; I’ve got high hopes for her though. Seemingly, the constant pain will continue for another six months, at least. I still can’t exercise and since the surgery, six weeks ago, I’ve piled on an unsightly amount of weight. I don’t care though, its all worth it for the new, tiny, perky boobs. Oh and did I mention that the back and shoulder pain is gone. Yup, all gone…..hallelujah!

In other news, I am preparing myself for an exciting December; there’s lots going on. This also includes a trip to New York with the boy. First trip of the year and our first break away together. The poor guy has no idea what he has let himself in for. He hasn’t experienced my crazy stateside shopping addiction yet. It’ll be quite the test, I’m sure.

Soon after that I have my sisters wedding; two days after Christmas actually. All I have to do now is find the perfect gúna to wear on the day. I’m hoping NY helps me out on that front.

It’s the final countdown

In the past I’ve been known to be a complete stress-ball and total panic merchant, especially when it comes to major events in my life. Now for some reason I’m not, and my cool and calm demeanour has left me slightly bemused.

I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I actually welcome the tranquil headspace. The truth of the matter is that I haven’t had the time to think about the reality of the situation ahead of me. I’ve been so slammed with work and overtime and gigs and catching up with friends and travelling home to see the family, I’ve been in quite the tailspin of late.

This evening though, it finally dawned on me that I’ve only SIX days to go. A mere six days left with the girls before they’re minimised and perkified. This served no purpose other than to remind me that I’m putting my life, and boobs, in the hands of one man. Thankfully, this man is good, he’s better than good actually and probably one of the top surgeons in his field in Europe; this fact goes a long way to reassuring me again that all will be fine.

In the past week people have been asking me “are you all set for the surgery”, ehm, yes. “Are you worried about it?” eh, thanks for the inappropriate query, but feck off. “Do you need any help with anything?” And this is where I’ve been overwhelmed with people’s genuine kindness and concern.  It’s at times like this that I’m reminded that there truly are some fantastic people in my life.

I don’t mean to sound like a complete and utter sap here, but I really am blessed to have such an awesomely supportive and wonderful family. For this, I love them dearly. The same goes for the boy, Christian. He’s been there by my side through every step of this process since my first consultation in St James’ in March this year and has been pretty damn fantastic about everything.

I also have an incredible, yet diverse, group of friends, both old and new who rock my socks off; you know who you are. Thank you all in advance for your patience, love and support (believe me, you’ll need it)

Furthermore, go raibh mile maith agaibh, to two brave and bold cáilini, Ms L & Ms Q; your truth, honesty and advice have been refreshing and inspiring.

Mushiness over! Aside from all that, in preparation for the hospital stay, and three week recovery period, I’ve packed my bags, purchased the sensible (ugly) sports bras, had my family do up a ‘Care Rota’, downloaded more TV shows than you could shake a stick at, and borrowed enough books to stock a mobile library. I think I’m all set.

And there you have it. I’m going to leave you with this upbeat little number from one of my fave Irish bands ever. It’s something I plan on doing about eight weeks after the surgery, so peoples, mark your diaries.