Getting away with lymphos

Good afternoon haemos and hos, lots of hospital has happened (alliteration partytimes there, sorry, not entirely sure where it came from). The only especially exciting bit was today when I nearly beheaded myself, aside from that it's just been all dancing veins and Medieval bloodletting and all the usual jazz. Something like that anyway... But yes, tubes of blood are being shaken like a polaroid pic-cha as we speak, deciding whether I am human or not. Or whether I have cancer anymore. Possibly both. Possibly neither. Apologies. I think this might be one of those posts where grammar just walks out the room then my spelling has a piss everywhere...

So, today was my first visit since the lympos (writing it like that makes it sound like a Greek god) went in and I am proud to report that I have as yet experienced absolutely no side effects. Possibly because the cells haven't worked their way into my bones yet, but that's no excuse, they should get a bloody move on (get the pun, hahahahaha). I have been having a lot of weird dreams though, which I suspect is something to do with that funny preservative drug they keep them in that makes me brain go a bit twit-twoo. Had a dream last night about concrete. I was a concrete inspector. Inspecting concrete. In a dam. With no resovoir. Just a dam, in the middle of a city, with a completely flat landscape around it. Made entirely of concrete. As you do.

On the way home I fell asleep in the medicar (I have no idea how- it was pretty much a tin can on wheels, sounded like Constanze when you try to take her crisps away) and woke up looking like someone had been trying to strangle me. I'm actually quite surprised this doesn't happen more often considering how chirpy I am at 7AM sometimes. Anyway, no one had been trying to kill me, I'd just tangled my neck up in the seatbelt, causing a somewhat deep and angry mark across my neck. Whoops. It's faded now, but not after my deepest concern that I'll have to sew my own head back on :S

The other good news (was nearly beheading myself good news?) is that I don't actually have thyroid cancer! Yay. It was just my paranoidness. Well, not really paranoidness, they just mentioned it a lot which was slightly concerning but then all my tests came bas as "Your-thyroid-is-dead-but-not-cancerous". The big bad cancer cow is coming to get me. Seriously, can I not think of a more intimidating animal than a COW? Cancer ostrich. Cancer emu. CANCER MANATEE. Shut up fingers. Fingal's fingers! SSH.

That is all for now. Perhaps more rambles on Friday when I am not a human zombie. No blood, just dasatanib and ribena in my veins...

Constanzestan.

xXx

P.s I was very excited to see cyclosporin, a drug I have taken, on NCIS. I am so well prepared for murder.