Latest posts by Martin Moodie (see all)
- From Dubai to Switzerland and Saudi Arabia with a fond farewell to Julián Díaz along the way - May 18, 2022
- Around the world in 80 (or so) days - May 15, 2022
- Cannes on steroids and gobsmacked in an airport wonderland - May 11, 2022
Check one. Any angels singing? No.
Check two. Any flames raging or little red-horned men around? No.
So far so good. And confirmation that I was still in the real world rather than the after variety post my operation came in the reassuring presence of my wife by the side of my bed. I had made it through.
That was five days and five exceedingly long nights ago. The interim period has been the strangest, most daunting I have ever experienced. On Wednesday night I hallucinated that I had been kidnapped and was about to be injected with a truth drug. I demanded of my ‘captor’ that I should be let go. Finally after moments of great terror he convinced me that he was my nurse and was simply administering my anti-biotics. Now he and I laugh about it but it wasn’t at all funny at the time.
I have been living in a half dream, my increasing moments of clarity merged with delusionary dreams over my whereabouts and state of health. Five days on from the operation my life is dominated by the realities of bodily functions rather than any profound focus on mortality. I am alive and beginning to function once more. That much will do for now.
All this time my email inbox has been filling up steadily and only now am I feeling coherent and positive enough to reply.
Thank you for all those messages, thank you for your many prayers wishing me on the road to recovery. They seem to be working. It’s nice to be back with you.