Week one of resuming pre-operation hours at work. Week two of commuting into the office two days per week.

Yesterday and this morning, I missed the first bus into town and the usual battle to alight on Adelaide Street. The second bus was thankfully sparsely populated at both the beginning and end of the journeys.

Arriving at my pre-booked desk around 7:20 am, I check in, wander around to locate the chair tagged with my name, unpack the laptop, exercise flexi-tube, mousepad, headset, phone charger cable, and food from my backpack, then retrieve the ergonomic keyboard, water flask, left-hand mouse, fan, cups, and Twinings Lady Grey teabags from my locker. This takes another ten minutes.

Hot-desking frees up resources, and leads to additional time being spent setting up and clearing away each day.

After logging into the laptop, opening the internet and launching cloud-based telephony, timesheet, chat, mail, calendar, notes, calculator, case list, work items, and AI; using TheraPutty and elastic bands to complete my hand exercises; catching up with teammates, both in person and online; and making a cup of tea, it is 8 o’clock — time for breakfast.

I’m much more productive on the three days I work from home.

Yesterday, following an hour participating in team cultural development, completing a proactive case review with my line manager and an external psychologist, and updating case notes, it was time to head off to my own psychology session.

Navigating my wheelie walker — I haven’t named it yet — across the varied textured pathways, ramps, roads, drains, potholes, service and manhole covers, and tactile indicators of Brisbane, my right hand was numb from the vibration. The right carpal release surgery is scheduled for 20 October.

I arrived late for my appointment, in pain from the hip, hot, sweaty and feeling stressed. We discussed this in the session in relation to goals versus values, and boom-and-bust cycles. I could relate to both concepts.

When able, I push myself, driven by a goal, without stopping to think about the impact on my values.

And I have a new one: independence.

I had this one wrapped up in authenticity. I find it amusing how values may pop up unexpectedly when they are challenged.

Community is another new one.

The trip home went like a dream: catching the 60 from Adelaide Street to Teneriffe Wharf, the ferry to Brett’s Wharf to be met by my husband and Stan, followed by a slow, controlled, supported hobble home.

I’m naming it Scout.