Well, I think I’ve still got some of my honour in tact.  Come to think of it, maybe I’ve never had any honour at all. *ponders*

Tossing aside my “Honour-Meter” for a moment, I am being discharged on Tuesday of next week.  I thought I’d better say “next week” just in case anyone thought it might be Tuesday, February 13, 2035 or something like that.

Tuesday.  That will be roughly a month that I’ve been here.  A whole month.  This is the longest hospitalization I have ever had.  For those who haven’t been following along, who may have forgotten or don’t know at all, this is #8.  Numbers #1 and #6 were two weeks.  That’s the longest ever before this.  I can’t believe it’s been a month.  Although, it’s probably not without the realm of possibity at all to feel like you’re in a massive time warp while inpatient.

Home.  Well, I am taking a weekend pass to spend more than a couple of hours (that I’ve already done) in my flat.  I’ll be sauntering out of here late Friday afternoon and then saunter (or run!!!) back Sunday (whenever I feel the panicky need to!!!)

Just joking.  If nothing more, it will be convenient to lug back more things I’ve accumulated while here during this month. I’ve actually been shopping!

One day I was so stressed out I decided I needed some “Retail Therapy.” *laughing*  Seriously! There were some necessities but then wee PAs eyes began to wander…  It got so bad, I wished I’d somehow found some restraints from the ward and brought them with me! Then I could have bound my arms tight enough to keep them away from my wallet?

Just joking.  I didn’t spend (too much) money.  Besides, they were all pressies! In one way or another.  Or something.  So there.  So it doesn’t matter.  So it’s all irrelevant, then.  Case closed!

Weekend pass.  Discharge.  Tuesday.  Yeah.  I don’t really know what to say about it all.  There’s been a whole lot of other business going on in the background, too.  Not only things to do with being in hospital.  Personal things.  Things I need to process that are frightening me but they….?…shouldn’t be…? Time.  Time is needed there.  Time and gentleness and loving care.

Another? I’ve definitely got to get it out of my head.  At least for now.  If I don’t, my snowball brain from hell will have even less of a chance of melting to get well.

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