Things I Should've Written When I Could Remember Them...

Oops and whoops and stuff. I have been partying it up in Swindon town and hence can't really remember what happened much last week. Something like that. I met a goat and everything. It was a proper genius goat, wasn't interested unless you had food. Pretty much my hero really. Anyway, less talk, more cancer.

I went to see Doctor Snowdon(ia) (How I wish people had more amusing names...) and had pretty much the day from hell. He was running over two hours late because his colleague had been off and he cleverly decided to see all the other doctors patients before me, leaving me sleeping in a corridor for bloody ages. Still, can't be grumpy at him as he's in charge of everything ever. And looks like Phil from Relocation Relocation. When I finally get to see him he tells me many things I already know, and takes home a large pay packet for the priviledge. He's not a bad doctor, he knows his stuff, he's just so cold and not really the listening type. Then when I got out it turned out that the ambulance drivers had been hunting me down because I was SO INCREDIBLY LATE but Nick was coming down to seeeee meeee and ooooooo what a palava. I nearly cried in front of Nick because I was so tired and confused and angry. I called Snowdon lots of nasty names. He he he. They're desperate to stick a feeding tube in my stomach. No thankyou. Constanze has had enough things stuck in her now. She has has probes down her throat, tubes hanging out her boobs and needles in her vagina. Limit reached. Plus, I've already got my huge and horrendous and impressive scar, I don't need ANOTHER one!

Then I went in on the Thursday for my sexy lymphocytes. This was another day that didn't go strictly according to plan...

6AM- Constanze gets up and begins to get dressed and all that jazz.

7AM- Constanze's transport should arrive anytime from now.

9AM- Constanze's transport has never been this late before!

11AM- Concerned Constanze phones hospital to enquire as to the whereabouts of her transport. Is informed they'd told her wrong and it was actually coming in the afternoon, sometime after 12. Constanze now angry.

12.30PM- Constanze's transport arrives.

1.30PM- Constanze arrives at hospital, half an hour late for her appointment. Apparently the driver had a different time written down...

4PM- Constanze has had her lymphocytes, and all has gone smoothly. However she has also has had some funny drugs and she isn't entirely sure where she is and can't walk in straight lines or know her birthday or talk coherently... But she is very, very happy. Antony suggests she have a porter take her to the transport area, but she valiantly declines, seeking adventure...

4.15PM- Constanze somehow makes it to the transport area after walking into several doors and being asked if she's ok by no less than 4 random medical staff, only to be told she's late and her driver has gone home. Falls asleep on some chairs. Is awoken and told to go back to where she came from (Not a rascist remark, just to go back to day ward... 15 floors away...) as the 0 floor need to authorise a taxi or something...

4.45PM- Constanze arrives back at Day Ward (In one piece, just. Although not after walking into the reflection of the open lift door on the lift wall, mistaking it for an actual exit...). Sits and waits.

5PM- A taxi has been arranged! Anthony forces me to get taken down by a porter after I am spotted being unable to correctly use a bin.

6.15PM Constanze arrives back in Kelstedge, safe and sound.

And that was that. 6 compliments on the greenness of my wig and a peppered steak slice later, a typical day in the life of leukaemia.

So, what's your general health like then, I hear you ask. My legs are improving, although I won't be losing the name Hobblestanze for a while. I ate a disgusting amount at a Chinese buffet, until I discovered the sausage Adam Woodall and Nick Sillett had concealed in my ice cream whilst I was weeing. Great friends, megots. I am in the top ten achiest people in the world, and my stomach is bloated to around the size of Mongolia and I have really dry nipples. Which makes me sad, as I have nice nipples. Lots of little things. Sleepiness is also my key emotion.

And what delights await me next week? Shona, the teenage nurse has asked me to be a part of some talk about cancer for some people who are training to do something... Um, yeah, as you can probably guess I don't know much about it yet. And the usual day trip visit. I also have strong Birmingham-related desires, having been reminded of the deliciousness of Mount Fuji's Bento Boxes, (Japanese Food>Everything) but I am not sure if my bambi legs can take it... We shall see.

I saw a three year old girl in the paper today whose leukaemia has been misdiagnosed as wind. Impressive fail there, NHS. Still, I'd say I haven't been very failed by them. I mean, they make me wait, but I get my treatment in the end. Usually. Thanks, old Aneurin.

That is all for now homohomos.

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