I AM VERY SORRY FOR THE LACK OF POSTS!!!

Since Monday my hospital internets woz brokedz, so I could not update all you homies of mine about da happeningz in da hospikul! Since yesterday evening however, I have escaped and am now writing to you from the comfort of my own, slightly unclean, living room. Oh yes. One month of cancery fun in the Royal Hallamshire is over, and I am now back to creating havok in my homeland of KELSTEDGE. Google map it, best minature council estate ever!

SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED. I mean lots. More things have happened since Monday than happened to Hitler in 1939-45. Good old Hitler*. My personal highlight was yesterday when I spent an hour being given electric shocks by some ancient crazy Indian man. This is also known as an EMG. Or EMC. Something like that. I felt like a dead frog in the 1800s... It makes your legs and fingers twitch and it's dead COOL MAN. I reccomend it as a tool to annoy brothers and sisters, electrocution. Just try and get the dose right, too much and they might die or something and make a bit of a mess and a court case or two.

I am also probably the healthiest person ever. All that's wrong with me is the occasional ache and I get well sleepy well easily. I CAN WALK. Lots. In my heels. That was probably the happest moment of my entire life, when I first wandered around in my heels after not being able to walk. There is definitely a part of me that worries about my addiction to high heels, while in hospital one of the doctors asked me if I was a ballerina because of my terrifyingly arched heels... Nope, just flatshoephobic... My eyesight is also getting healthy, they took some more photos of my eyes and ruined my make up and put stingy stuff in my eyes just for the lolz and I am not a fan or eye tests and now I've forgotten the start of this sentence. No blind fits for a fortnight, and my optic nerve is uber less swollen and I win. They are also confident of no lasting damage. Score!

Ah, when I got home the neighbours certainly knew. Misfits, full blast. Orgasm. I remember playing Rammstein in the ward. I successfully converted zero nurses to German indusrial metal. Sad times.

I have Johnny Cash on. This song makes me cry, hurt. I have this serious phobia of going to sleep in case I don't wake up. Not for me, for my gran. My gran has to put up with too much without me having cancer. My gran is the most wonderful person in the world, why the fuck should she have to watch her only granchild battle for her life with leukaemia? Her only son has just spent the last few years half dead with Chrones, her only daughter hasn't spoken to her for the same amount of time, her mum died last year... It isn't fair. If I die I'll punch God. Unless God is my gran, and as anyone who's met her will know, that's pretty likely.

Being in a situation like this puts a very different perspective on life. There's a one in fourish chance I'll snuff it. If I died it wouldn't bother me, it's the quality of life, not the quantity, and I can honestly say I've had the most amazing experinces, the most drama, life has been horrendous at times, but it's never been dull. It's been spent with some of the most amazing human beings. I struggle to fill in the form for the do what you want for a day charity because I'm so bloody content. I don't want for anything. It's just made me realise just how valued I am, and the massive hole I'd leave if I went, which I'd never really noticed. That's the only reason I dislike cancer, it affects other people's happiness... All the pain I'm in, all the hospital bordom, the legnthy procedures... They don't bother me. But the second it starts upsetting my homies, that's when I become UNIMPRESSED. I will so defeat cancer with my +1 Sword of Anticancer. Sexy D&D reference there for you all! MmmHmmm.

Sorry, I went a bit cancer advert on you all then. God, I hate cancer adverts. People are such wimps, this is why everyone should be more like me. 120 needles down and still cooooool. And a visual field test, which are very boring. If you're ever asked to do one, run away. Pess the button when yo see the light. For the next ten fucking years. Also, the P button on my laptop barely works, which is annoying. I like P. I was in ward P3. PPPPPPPP.

Ah, I almost miss hospital. Horrible food and 6.30am wake ups. But the laughs with nurses, the ridiculous amounts of post, the rebellious visitors. The shower (Rich will understand that one. Maybe Helen too...)... Eating melons and spelling out obscene words with the lifts in the early hours... Being famous. Everyone recognises me in that place. I was on I floor waiting for a test, and the paper man was there, "You're not from here! You're the girl from P floor!", stuff like that all the time. All the nurses obsessing over my make up.

Oh great, my internet just went. GAYGAYGAYGAY. This is as annoying as Helen is gay. This means I may have to post this tomorow morning, you poor people will have to wait another 12 hours for my amazing sexy news. Speaking of sexy, I got the women of Magdalen calender, look at me ose with my sexy cancer. Ah, it's like when Aimée came to see my in hospital and said I even looked sexy in my hospital bed. Is that something to be proud of, making cancer sexy? Who knows? It's probably not my greatest achievement. That's eating a whole KFC bucket to myself. Or saving that woodpecker... Or kissing Perch! Definitely Perch.

Ack, why can I never remember what's happened? I just ramble in these darn blogs. Doctors are proud of my bravery. Ahahahahahahaha. I rule at having cancer. I'm glad I got it and not you, because it really doesn't bother me. Mildly annoying, that's what I'd call it.

OH OH OH!
TATTOO!
I finished my design for when I get better. I also designed my mum's first one, and one for one of my nurses. New career? I am very good at it. I can make any age woman go oooo, that's nice. But seriously, my next tattoo will be amazing, it has physics, cancer, German, Russian, megalomania and Persian! Win. Now all I need to do is stop having cancery blood...

Anyway, lack of haemoglobin means I am very sleepy. And sleep I must, for sleep equals health. And health is good for me!

Laterz, gayz!

xXXxXXx




* I don't love Hitler as much as I make out, just to clarify. In fact, I'd go as far to say he was a complete wanker.