I'm too fucking healthy to have cancer...

Today I went out with my Marcy. For those of you who don't know of his wonderful state, he is a most beautiful young man of the age of 20, who is one of the few human beings in history that're nearly as pretty as me. We wandered and didn't get him a tent and bought ham and had general fun. I don't feel ill now. At all. Occasionally, sleepy. Making jokes about my cancer in supermarkets makes us look like ignorant and vile twats. I look more stunning than ever, I can walk perfectly, none of you would notice I was ill if I hadn't told you. I'm terrified that any of you have a vision of me being bedridden and depressed. Perfectly healthy, me. Aside from that supposed leukaemiaish blood, which even I'm beginning to doubt exists...



Anyway, my visit to hospital on Monday was shit boring. Another visual fields test. And that was it. Results, and a blood test on Thursday...

What's driving me mental? People trying to tell me how ill I am. My family, in particular. I know they just don't want me to keel over, and neither do I, jesus. But only I know what I'm capable of. This is one thing that none of them can claim experience over. Can't run marathons. Can't eat cream cheese. Can't go in massive crowds. Can't give blood. Can visit you. Can do kinky things with Matt Bilton. Can do more than one thing in a day. Can live my life like before...

Went to the dentist. I have teeth. Medical check ups this week have been decidedly uniteresting. No new cancers or diseases... Not even one.


I get all the girls. Just thought I'd let you know.


And now, speak of periods. Mine is being annoying and late. No, I'm not pregnant. Blood tests prove this. I haven't even had sex for over a month now, and I am starting to go insane (Apologies James for revealing our sex secrets over my blog... LOVE YOU!). This is through no erectile disfunction of James, or vaginal problems of mine. Of those, we have none. He has not seen me since hospital, and they are not the sexiest of places. (Annoying)^3. Anyway, off the topic of my sex life, and back to the origonal point of this paragraph, I am eargerly awaiting my period so I can start sticking needles in my stomach... And then get in the newspaper! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Ah, cancer. The worst is yet to come. My transplant will near on kill me. Joy!

I am in a very good mood this evening. I have no idea why, I still don't know where Wally is. Woohoo. That was a bit cruel, sending a girl with impaired vision a Where's Wally card. You know who you are... Though the get well soon cards seem to be doing their job for now folks, I'm impressed! I told you the more cards I got the healthier I would be...

Cancer is boring at the moment.

Hospital tomorow. I have a review with a doctor, where I must clarify the rules on oral sex.

xXXx