July 2025

Italy was incredible! I’ve written a separate blog that runs through our week-long road trip, so I won’t go into detail here, but I returned with a real feeling that I’d actually been on holiday. It wasn’t like I needed a holiday from my holiday at all.

I’m currently on a train to London for work. My first train was cancelled and then I had to change a couple of times, so the current train is due to get in around 10 a.m. I left my house at 6:45 a.m. and I don’t think I’ve really recovered from my operation at the weekend, so I’m exhausted.

Work has been surprisingly busy. I’ve actually felt overwhelmed for the first time in this role, which has made me feel a bit uncomfortable, especially as it wasn’t this pressured when it was just me in the role covering maternity leave. I had my development discussion, which went well, and my manager had nothing major to bring up with me. I just feel a bit like I’m in a heavy admin role and not somewhere as important or influential as I’d like to be. Anyway, enough about work. I might just be feeling like this because I’m exhausted this month.

My Nanny Pat turned 80 this month. I remember quite a few years back when she said to me that she hoped that by the time she was 80, she’d have been to my wedding. It dawned on me on her birthday that this still hasn’t happened for any of her grandchildren. My parents, aunties, and uncles took my grandparents to Sicily to celebrate Nan’s 80th at the same time James and I were in Italy. Then my cousins, brother, and I took my grandparents out for afternoon tea to celebrate her 80th when she got back. We’d booked The Ivy in Winchester, and my Nan loved having us all together.

My cousin Alex had his birthday this month too. Alex only lives across the road from me, so I took some time on my lunch break to meet him, my mum, and my grandparents for lunch. There’s a little independent café called The Oaty Goat that has two locations nearby. It’s the perfect place to go on a lunch break. I love independent cafés and have always had these brainstorming conversations with Mum, my aunty, and my brother about owning one one day. A proper family-run café with homemade cakes and good coffee. Of course, it never actually comes to anything, but it’s nice to dream about sometimes.

I got a call from the hospital booking my operation for the weekend after afternoon tea. Full disclosure, I had to have a colonoscopy, so I spent two days eating minimal food and then a day drinking bowel prep and, for want of a better phrase, “clearing out” my system before heading to the hospital the next day for the procedure.

As if the prep wasn’t bad enough, the procedure was incredibly traumatic. I had a short consultation with the surgeon beforehand and kind of knew what was coming, as I’d had a colonoscopy ten years prior. I mentioned to the surgeon that I usually need more sedative for procedures, and he told me that I wouldn’t be able to have the gas and air that was offered due to my B12 deficiency, so he’d give me more sedative to make the procedure more comfortable if I asked for it. However, during the procedure, the sedative he gave me wasn’t very strong and I could feel everything, so I asked for some more. He just told me that he was “nearly done” and then rushed the rest of the procedure, taking no biopsies. I was so shocked that I couldn’t help the tears, and I sobbed to a nurse afterwards. All I could think was that I wanted to see James and I wanted to go home. A nurse told me to get dressed and wait on a chair to be discharged, and an hour later a discharge nurse I hadn’t met before told me everything looked normal and that I was fine to go. I feel so confused. I’ve had flashbacks of the procedure every day since, and it makes me feel sick. I vaguely remember the one I’d had when I was 18, and in that I had only felt the biopsies being taken. It felt like this surgeon was rushing through the queue of patients waiting to be seen. I can’t help gaslighting myself and telling myself I’m just being dramatic, but I know deep down that was not how things should have gone at all.

James took me out for lunch afterwards and we met with Janara too. There was a kite festival on in Southsea, so we took a stroll along from Gunwharf to Southsea and dipped into the amusements at Clarence Pier too. It was a welcome distraction and showed me that the sedative clearly wasn’t enough, as I was fully functional and not at all drowsy so soon after. I was pretty exhausted by 6 p.m though. I felt worse a couple of days later as my body was returning to normal, so I took Monday off work. It’s Thursday today and I still don’t feel quite right.

I had Janara and Imogen round for dinner last night. It was the first proper sit-down meal I’ve had in my new house, as James put together a dining table this week. I made a chilli in the slow cooker and an apple and blackberry crumble. Okay, so I cheated with the crumble topping and bought a packet mix from Home Bargains down the road, but I foraged the blackberries from the brambles outside my house, so I think that makes up for it. James was amazing. He made the rice and washed everything up so that I could spend time chin-wagging with the girls. He’s been super supportive this month, and I just feel so lucky to have someone who does so much with no expectations. Janara said to me that she’s enjoyed getting to know the real me because she can see that James just makes me feel I can be myself. The mental load I carry is so much less than what I’ve had in any relationship before.

Talking of being more like myself, I posted more on socials this month and even published this blog live. From short snippets on my TikTok to stories and posts on my Instagram, I haven’t felt embarrassed to share more with others. I feel my confidence returning. I feel like I’ve accepted the anxious parts of me, and the parts of me I once branded as broken have just become parts of me that make me who I am.

July was such a whirlwind. One where I’ve had ups and downs, but also such a huge amount of support that it hasn’t felt unbearable.