It’s pretty difficult to find the silver lining in recuperating from a major operation when it involves lying in bed, staring at the mould-covered ceiling and walls of my (then) rental property’s main bedroom for hours on end.

So, what’s a girl to do?

How about quit feeling sorry for herself, and use the time to finish writing a story.

I mean for the longest time I’d been wishing for a few more hours in the day, wishing I wasn’t so goddamned exhausted all the time and my muse would come out o...