A long post about a short stay...

Right, I'm going to be stuck in this room of isolation for a few days with NO INTERNET. Hence, I shall make a diary style collection of entries, all rated 15 and post them when I is escaped. Look at my log-i-cal thinking. It's cuz i iz physicist. It'll probably end up being all long and boring because I am in isolation with nothing to do other than play laptop times and eat and have cabin fever. So, feel free to skim read or read every other word or whatever, offended I shall not bumble be.

SATURDAY

Well, I've been here since yesterday. And oh, the things that have happened. More has happened in the past 48 hours than happened in the whole Boer war. Transsvaal. Anyway, you all already know of my allergy to chronology, so I'll try and go in order and then add bits I forgot from the main plot after.

So, it was Friday morning. I'd been at Marc's house, feeling pretty well, eating ice lollies and watching slightly porno things to see who got bored of boobs first. As you do. Anyway, I walked hom in the morning, got honked at three times on the roundabout (You'd think Chesterfield lorry drivers had never seen legs before...), hopped on the bus in my super super I-got-three-hours-of-sleep-because-Marc-and-his-cats-are-rebellious-and- annoying-and-noisy super extra tired. Then I was home. All settle with my hot water bottle by lunch, I got a phone call. OH GOOD IT'S YUSEF SAYING I HAVE TWO THROAT VIRUSES AND HAVE TO GO IN FOR A WEEK OF NEBULISERS THAT'S JUST WHAT I BLOODY WANTED TO HEAR THANKYOU. It was a bit of a fuss getting in, my granparents would have driven me, but they'd gone for ravetimes by the seaside, so I had to have emergency transport, which is less exciting than it sounds...

And then, I arrived at the day ward, where a sheepish Yusef greeted me, apologising for admitting me. I then informed him I wasn't his friend, even though I love him really. A distinctly average chest X-ray followed, followed by the confusing revalation that I wasn't going to be stopping on P floor like usual as I have a throat of SUPER DEATH that would infect everyone, despite the fact I'd been sat infecting everyone on day ward all afternoon. Somehow, I ended up being admitted to in tropical diseases ward. Erm...

Pues. Pues pues pues. I don't have a tropical disease. This is where all the people with malaria and Yellow fever and SARS live. I have a bit of a sore throat when I swallow. I feel somewhat out of my league. I made a very bad first impression, I saw my name on the whiteboard and it was spelt wrong so I shouted "What twat wrote that?". Oops. Subtlestanze.

ALTHOUGH.Despite not feeling very ill, I swear I nearly died my deathiness last night. I reacted badly to a nebuliser in the middle of the night, I was all confused and woozy and then I stopped being able to breathe for about half an hour, which wasn't the best idea my lungs have ever had. Luckily I had it again today and I wasn't half as bad. Still, six hours of masky nebuliser drugs in your eyes fun every day isn't exactly how I envisaged spending my week.

I can also confirm that E floor is nowhere near as luxurious as P floor. I spent hours searching for a TV remote that DOES NOT EXIST. Typical physicist. There is NO FRIDGE. Or internet. And my shower is designed for midgets and makes swimming pools around my toilet. And I have a window that looks out onto closed curtains. I think this is possibly because tropical diseases gets less funding- there's less sympathy for people who didn't bother to get the right jabs before their hols. Naughty.

I hear you all asking, where's the fun been in all this? Well, there has been plenty. Today I made Keldtedge on Sim City 4. And I tipped two pots of fruit, a yoghurt, some Dr Pepper and two jellies in a pot to make a witches' brew. Sadly no frog eyeballs though. And a nurse walked in on me scratching my crotch. Frogcrotch.

Anyway, I must go now. My neck is HURT and needs restrest.

xXXxXXx

MONDAY

Well, it's getting rather boring in my little old isolation room. There's a window with curtains that goes into the room next door (god only knows why), I might open my curtains,tap on it, hope the person opens their curtains and try to befriend them. Or just scratch on the window at them. I hope SARS can't travel through glass.

Little to report medially speaking. I still feel pretty much fine, and feel a bit like I've been taken hostage. Getting used to the nebulisers now, although not the "I've been taking cocaine" look they give you. Had a lot of over used canula pain in my arm yesterday evening. I've now eaten 3857 mandarins since I arrived. Mother says they have vitamin C to make me better. If only it was that simple.

To eat crisps or to not eat crisps? That is the question. Ooo, jalapenos.

I know what I'll do to pass the time. I shall compile a list of all the numbers regarding mi tratamiento (treatment), because I like numbers, they is well good. Then I can feel impressed wit myself, like that time I ate a whole bucket of KFC to myself.

3500 tablets
300 needles
400 blood samples
1 giant needle up my vagina
13 eggs stored
3.5 months spent as an inpatient
26000 pounds worth of Dasatanib
60 self injections
4 lung tests
80 day trips to hospital
4 photos of my optic nerve
10 visits to the hospital eye doctor
4 lung tests
5 heart scans
8 X rays
3 MRI scans
5 CT-scans
1 stem cell transplant
1 bag of lymphocytes
10 doses of total body radiation
8 bone marrow extractions
2 lumbre punctures
460 hours attached to a drip machine
40 bags of blood
70 bags of saline
200 tablet pots
1 leg electrocution test
5 physiotherapy visits
15 nebulisers
60 urine samples
200 painkillers
15 trips to the fertility clinic
3 trips to the outpatient transplant clinic
35 meetings with Yusef
473 insults from Andy
1 camera down my throat
1 amazing avoidance of a camera up my bum
100000 minutes spent lying in hospital beds
120 hours spent asleep on seats in the ambulance waiting area
25 eye drops
10 eye tests

Ok, I'm bored of that now. One day I really must work out if I'll ever pay back what all this has cost in my taxes. Probably not. Sorry for ripping you all off, I was a bit of a crap investment financially. BUT I am a good investment physics wise because I'm so going to make the biggest MRI scanncer in the world so I can scan a tyrannosaurus. Or a whale. Or a tyrannosaurus whale. Or a snorlax.

Ooo, Snowdon is back in the good books. He just came in to inform me of THE PLAN. Stupid bone marrow has dropped to 30% (bad bad bad) so I need some lymphocytes super fast. I pointed out that I was eating less because I'm in here and the food looks like vomit, and he agreed that's not very good for my obtainment of weight. He's therefore helping me to get out of this joint faster. Epiccc. Freedom! I can go and do some celebratory church burning or child scaring or steak eating.

Now I am off to read political magazines. Exciting.

xXXxXXxXXx

A FEW DAYS LATER

So, I am free thanks to old Snowdonia. Today I had some emergencyish lymphocytes, they came in a huge massive barrel of liquid nitrogen (who doesn't love liquid nitrogen) and the preservative has the odd effect of making me smell of.... That's right, you guessed it, sweetcorn. Don't ask. Even if I understood... Yeah. Oddtimes.

AS I POST THIS

I no longer smell of sweetcorn. Thank fuck.

xXXxXXx