Four needles and a Funeral...

I went to my first funeral on Friday. Yes, things and the world are somewhat different since my last post.

I had a best friend in hospital. Jamie Harris, 29, leukaemia sufferer and the ultimate loveable rogue. My partner in crime. He made even days where they were drilling a needle the size of a biro in your spine seem fun. And it wasn't just me he made smile, it was the whole ward. He made the most depressing place on earth into a place to laugh, befriending everyone and chatting up anyone who was female with a pulse...

I never got to see him outside a hospital. We had plans to eat bargain bucket after bargain bucket of kfc when we were both out... But Jamie never got out. At his funeral I was so jealous of everyone else there... They'd all got to know and love him over years, and I'd only had 4 months. It's fair to say they're four months I'll never forget. I mean, how can I forget the boy who told me my necklace looked like a drainpipe and that I looked like I'd got dressed at a jumble sale? Anyone else would've got a punch, but he had such a cheeky glint in his eye he could've got away with murder.

I wasn't well enough to go to his funeral. Emotionally, I was fine, well, as fine as it's possible to be, but physically... Shut up Constanze. I'm not one for moaning. I wouldn't have missed it for all the tea in China. I don't know, I felt truely awful that day, I couldn't even stand up long enough to sing the hymns... I wanted to be well so I could say goodbye properly. But I had to spend the whole thing trying to not pass out or be sick... I managed it ok until on the way home where I ended up half collapsed on the side of a busy main road. The taxi that eventually came to pick me up nearly ran me over.

Honesly. I'd have gone even if it'd all killed me. Possibly just to see the word 'Legend' spelt out in a hearse in white flowers. Or to hear Bon Jovi. I never knew Jamie liked Bon Jovi. Haha. Funny thing, the world. I don't know.

I find it hard to now post news on how I am now because I'm so lucky and infinitely better than Jamie... There's the usual trouble eating, I frequently have to crawl because my legs fail me, aches, tiredness, weakness, ulcers... But that's just a list. A list I'm used to. It's normal to me to sit on the floor to get dressed, to be sick when I brush my teeth, to be out of breath putting my jumper on... Nothing exciting to report.

Hospital in the morning. I'm getting taken by hospital transport, where you meet all the best people. I came home in a mini Graceland last week, who knows what tomorow will bring?

So, Jamie's dead and I don't seem to be getting any better. Despite all this, the world is still a beautiful place. I don't know why. Maybe you'd care to tell me?

xXx