Upon The Eve Of The Great Anniversary...

The Amazing Anniversary Of Constanze's Obtainment Of Cancer Which Is Good As She's Not Dead Day! Tomorow. Don't forget. Party tooters at the ready...

And doesn't it sound grand? I've managed to have cancer for a year and can count the times I've felt sad or cried on one hand, no lies. But, today, now, is one of them. Yet, it's still not really about cancer. It's slowly dawning on me, who's my friends really are. A cliché, I know. In these tough times the world's personalities have really shown themselves.

It's also becoming apparent that I probably won't get back to uni for this October... Even with some miraculous recovery... To be honest, I don't know if this is good or bad. I don't want to bugger myself up, but the ethics of Oxford are abismal. Maybe it's just my rebellious spirit that doesn't like being forced to do things...

This is the thing with me though. I'm very lucky in that I know in about an hour or two I'll forget what melancholy even is... I just don't get sad. I refuse to let others or haemogoblins drag me down with them. I'm so easy to make happy that rainbow crystals can balance out anything...

Maybe I'm just sad that I can't always share my happiness with others. There are people who have stuck with me for years who deserve everything in the world, and those that choose to fight with me out of their own insecurities. I don't know.

I could be consoled with the fact that today I learned I can rent extreme off road mobility scooters. He he he. Havok will ensue. I am going to run over a badger. Is that cruel? I hate badgers, they stole me biccies. I suppose they are cute, when their rabid teeth aren't showing. FINE, I won't kill any badgers. I'll go for Cameron instead.

Nick (The Hallamshire's dietician mental loon) phoned me and interrupted my sellotaping. He wants to weigh me when I next go to da hospitalz. If I haven't gained some fats then I sharl be a very very Distressedstanze. I also may give in and have blood, getting out the bath is now like scaling any one of the Himalayas... And someone has to work out why I spend half my life feeling pregnant and having a stomach like a concrete balloon. Luckily though, my swollen lymph node armpit grapes have gone down, so there's a win there.

Bring on tomorow. Cinema with that handsome soul Marc, and dinner with that South African Stunner Bianca... And if seeing Marc's chubby cheeks and hearing Bianca's manic laugh can't make me smile, then nothing can! :)

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