Two weeks ago today I went into hospital for life-saving major surgery. I honestly thought I was going to die on the operating table.

Anyway, spoiler alert, I survived! I was so smiley, so happy, my wife thought I was off my tits on drugs. (Well, a little morphine).

Two weeks later, still bruised and scabby-scarred, I just want to get on with stuff, but my body (and my wife) won't let me. It's so frustrating! I'm forced to vegetate, recuperate, and just take things easy.

But I'm alive.