Over the coming weeks I slowly started to recover. I had been in and out of consciousness for weeks, worrying everyone that I wouldn't pull through due to malnutrition or other problems that arise from being immobile. I still wasn't able to stay awake very long, taking most days in small, several hour long, chunks. I would wake and eat, try to read something, and then have to go back to bed. Few of my ladies stayed in my chambers during this time, finding it less stressful to be elsewhere when they weren't caring for me. I couldn't blame them, being silent for most of the day to not interrupt my sleep was not a pleasant way to live.
It took another week and a half before I was well enough to be dressed and not be completely exhausted by the process. While people had stayed by my bedside
