Oh, the niggling little pains of life. Months of my stomach trying to eat itself, and I finally get an appointment, and of all the 365 days of the year...
YES.
It's on my fucking birthday.
2PM on the Glorious Twelfth.
They can SEE my medical notes. Surely someone could've thought 'Oh, Constanze probably doesn't want to spend her 20th birthday in hospital having her bowel movements questioned and stomach poked', but, apparently, this is how it must be. 'Happy Birthday, I got you an Endoscopy. UP YOUR BUM.' 'Happy Birthday Constanze, I got you some free drugs, enjoy, delicious aciclovir.' 'Happy Birthday Constanze, now take your top off so I can feel you.' Actually, the last wouldn't be so bad it it wasn't for the fact it'll be some 50 year old doctor doing it and not a hunky Korean physicist... Damn.
And that concludes the morning's annoyance. Now I am going back to sleep, because that is all I do. I wants me some blood. Watch your necks.
xXXxXXx
P.S I was genuinely nearly blown over by a gust of wind yesterday. Oh dear.
P.P.S Having lots of trouble eating. As in even more than normal (Ooo, I used the word normal in a blog about me!). I ate one prawn for lunch yesterday. The prawn was not Insanity Prawn Boy, before you worry. He's on the moon, silly. And on my t-shirt.
Monday, 19 July 2010
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Woo!
ReplyDeleteI have now read your entire blog, all of it. You can blame Bex in Brighton for the introduction to it.
Still, you are a physicist, and, as a fellow physicist, I know how awesome those hospital machines are. I so want to make an MRI scanner.
You should put up a birthday wishlist. With the number of people reading your blog - you never know... ;) What's the point of minions, followers and sheep if you don't exploit them?
Looking forward to the next installment.
Dom