A little imagination is required with this, sorry. I want you to all go back in time in your heads, back to Boxing day... Go back to the indigestion and wrapping paper everywhere... Go backkk... And then you will find yourself back when this post was written...


26/12/10
Praise be to the Lord (mashed potato, that is), Christmas is over. Although it has its benefits (I’m eating Ferrero Rocher for breakfast and no one can judge me...) (I GOT A TYPEWRITER!), I must admit to being rather glad that I might actually get some POST and be able to visit the library once more...

It’s Boxing day as I write this, and my, have the festivities taken their toll. The blood bogies are back, remember them? When I was in isolation having me old stem cell transplant instead of bogies I had dried blood, possibly something to do with ‘spontaneous bleeding’, everyone’s favoritely named side effect. Hopefully they’re just general-Christmas-excess-your-body-used-all-your-platelets-digesting-everest-recreated-in-food-because-that’s-how-biology-works-wink-wink-nudge-nudge blood bogies, and not a sign of EXTREME ANAEMIA...

Actually, extra anaemia, now I think about it, I have been very tired these past few days. I have been out for something silly like 5 days in a row though, so it’s hard to judge. I suppose half my blood did end up on my lovely top when I had that biopsy as well...

OOH. THE BIOPSY. I went to hospital the other day and didn’t even tell you! How rude, I do apologise.

So, yeah, I went to hospital the other day. Could you have possibly guessed? I thought it would be a short and merry affair, all I needed to do was attend my appointment and give them some blood and then I’d be home for one. No such luck duck. I can’t remember if I mentioned in my last post, but Snowdon had referred me to have an ‘urgent’ biopsy done of my sexy neck rash, so, obviously, they sent me a suitabley ‘urgent’ appointment for in two and a half months time... Yeah, really urgent, that. So, the supreme haemo doctors used their power and influence to persuade one on the skin stealing doctors downstairs to come and lop a bit of my flesh off that very day...

... And, lop it off, he did. I had one stitch put in, but it fell out a couple of days later, which is really rather annoying because now I’ve got nothing to get out at parties. I also had my charming pentamadine nebuliser done (see photo!!!!), which was, as I promised, the only thing I shared saliva with under the mistletoe this Christmas.

But yes, that was then, but this is now, so here’s to not moving all day. Not that I can anyway, my stomach feels like I’ve got angry snakes coiling up around all my organs, namely digestive and kidneyish. Mainly cancer, all that, but I’m not entirely sure that the bright blue ‘Fruity German’ cocktail (don’t tell Snowdon) possibly didn’t help? In fact, I’m sure it did, that’s a complete LIE. They want me to be German, now I have extra German in me, so perhaps my bone marrow is now at 100%? Again, that’s definitely how biology works. You can see I have an Oxford education (Well, a third of one. And also in physics, not biology. Excused.)...
Tomorow I’m going to try and make it to Swindon (AKA the Hollywood of the South) for the delicious Adam’s birthday. It’s going to hurt. Why do I do this to myself? Because it’s ME vs CANCER and I’ll be damned if it boycotts my FUN SUPPLY.

Adios, Constanze. (Sadly, not Constanta. That’s a Romanian costal town. Not that I have any huge desires to be a Black Sea town. Live in one, definitely, but be one? I think having thousands of people walking all over me all the time would probably make all my pains and owies hurt even more... Shut up Constanze, you’re talking schizennn de nuevo. Spassssseeeebah, menteeee.)

P.s Sorry for another long post. When there’s no time constraint and not much else I can do apart from eat and sit about, I get all rambley. Like a walker with a full flask o’ tea.