Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad 'n fawrreddog chlepia.
part 237.

I was discharged after two weeks of hospital hospitality, I couldn't wait to get home, well back to Tom's house. Simon collected me in the Saab and I was glad he'd somehow managed to acquire an air cushion.

Somehow the world had survived without me for a few days, much to my surprise, not only that but Simon had occasionally done the washing up. Correction, he'd learned to load the dishwasher - it was progress, I was planning on showing him how the washing machine worked too. If Tom could manage it, then so could he.

I was glad to be home, although it was obvious the three of them were hoping I'd be well enough to cook something. I promised I would after I'd done my stuff with the plastic and had a little nap.

Stella was now pretty well recovered from her liver problem, so I sent her out to get some chicken portions. I was asleep before she came back.

Did the stretchingmefanny get any easier? A little, it still hurt like bug...., come to think of it I hadn't tried that, so I couldn't compare it. However, I didn't think I'd bother, coping with one orifice was enough.

I was keeping a log of how often, how long and what depth I achieved, okay a bit anal, erm I'll just rephrase that. It was recorded so I could compare or measure progress. I am a scientist after all and used to keeping records of all sorts, this was just one more. However, at the present rate, Simon would have a long wait before I was prepared to take the risk of more pain.

I woke up mid afternoon and after showering and dressing, went downstairs. Simon was working on line, Tom and Stella were playing cards. To be fair Stella stopped when I arrived and went to make me a cuppa.

I followed her into the kitchen and saw the chicken portions she bought. I made a wine sauce and popped them in the oven, they'd do in an hour or two. Then I went back into the lounge and sat on my soft cushion. Ordinary chairs were a bit sore still, although I could cope at a push.

I had been put on oestrogen patches by the surgeon, which I would have to see my GP about to get a new prescription. I wasn't sure as I'd heard they can cause skin rashes and you have to move them each time you put on a new one. Seemed a lot of trouble compared to popping a pill.

I'd obviously lost some weight since the op, and Stella was jealous of my reduction in a dress size. I half wondered if I'd keep it up, but the probability was that my shape would change a little after the change in my hormone status. Since the op, my body would produce only small amounts of testosterone, so the oestrogen might have more effects, although I had reduced the amount of that too.

I felt so tired, which was the big surprise. My fitness levels went through the floor and I knew that I needed to do some exercises soon. I made an appointment to see my own doctor the next day and sort out one or two things. Stella had agreed to take me, Simon would be back at work and so would Tom.

Stella helped me with the vegetables as Tom and Simon were both working. I hoped that I'd be able to help Tom quite soon, even if it only meant doing something on line for him. Once the spring arrived we'd need to be ready to start the survey, I still had some protocols to finish writing. I also needed to see how my dormouse project was going and discover who was taking my tutorial students.

My dormouse project was going to be the basis of my PhD, the success or failure of the captive breeding and release into the wild. I already had nearly two years of data, I needed another two years and I could write up the preliminary research and submit it to the university.

Once that was done, I know Simon would be chasing me to marry him, assuming he hadn't got fed up with me by then. In other words our engagement was going to run for two more years. I was still thinking about a honeymoon in Menorca - did I mention they have dormice there!

I have already been invited to visit there and study them, they want to do something like my project, captive breeding and release. I'd like to help but for the moment, I obviously can't. It seems I'm starting to develop a reputation for dormice. Could be worse I suppose, at least it isn't for doing silly things like rescuing babies from burning cars or catching crooks.

Dinner was okay, not one of my better meals, but it was edible and apparently better than the curries they'd been living on for two weeks!

I had asked Simon to take me to see my father the next weekend. I had let him know I had survived the op, and was doing okay. This meant I had to organise some baking before I went and also making some soup. This time I was going to try some broccoli and Stilton, if I could get a recipe. I knew Simon had some Stilton, so I only had to persuade him to donate it to my experiments - hopefully there would be enough for him too.

Apart from the dilation and tiredness, I was almost back to normality. Correction, I wasn't working, so it was a little different. Nor was I riding my bike, apparently Simon was doing a bit of riding although it had been rather wet, so he didn't go far or often. I hoped he'd keep riding, it would do him good and encourage me to get fitter faster. Seeing as I couldn't drive for a couple more weeks let alone ride a bike, I'd have to do something else to improve my strength and endurance.

That night, with Simon's arms around me, I felt secure and loved as a female. I know I had felt all this before, but this time it seemed to have transcended something, as if before it had been a pale imitation of what I was now and how I hoped our relationship would develop.

As I lay there I felt a tear roll down my cheek, it was one of joy and contentment, as if all my past experiences had helped to get me to where I was now, which was where I needed to be and that felt good. I snuggled back into Simon's arms and fell asleep.