No news is good news. Or bad news. Or both.

There is absolutely nothing medical to report. Nothing is happening. I just keep going to the hospital to check up on Yusef and make sure he's not having too much fun. No vomiting, no shits, no rashes. No signs of graft-versus-host whatsoever. My body is so lazy. Come one bone marrow, FIGHT. I need to do some bear baiting and cock fighting in my blood.

Went to day ward yesterday and to my extreme surprise Abdi was there. For those in the know Abdi is never seen out of P floor so it really was quite a treat. This made Constanze very happy as he's one of my favorite nurses and I haven't seen him for a bazillion years (well, you know, since I was last an inpatient... It FEELS like a bazillion years, but then time slows when you're having fun... Ssh...). He was just walking around, showing off his presence and poise and general Somalian air of mystery. Took my blood too and was impressed by my Arabic. Bang-bang-banginnn'. I should really stop saying that. I am not a chav. I am many terrible things (lemur on speed, forgetful noob, sad nerd, gluttonous whale), but not a chav.

I also successfully embarassed myself by waving at someone I didn't know then running off. Oh lord, I am a pain. My default reaction to everything is to either a) run away or b) fall asleep. There's no fight or flight here, just flight or night.

Came home in the car of embarassment. The medicar driver had already slightly awkwardly explained that he was having a camera up his bum next week (I had to put my foot in it, Driver-"I''ll be in hospital next week" Me-"OOO WHAT FOR DO TELL I LOVE HOSPITALS" Driver-"Erm... Well, I'll be having a camera down my throat and also... The other end too") but then to add to the general car awkawardness the next patient we picked up didn't know which clinic he was going to... What's it for said the driver. The poor bloke then asked me to cover my ears so he could tell the driver he was having ejaculatory problems... I tried to diffuse the situation by loudly announcing "It's ok, I've had needles up my vagina". It didn't help, to say the least. There was a silent agreement to never talk of this again.

In other news, my hot water bottle has just exploded. Now my back is somewhat red. Oh dear. Not burnt, more angry at the sudden rush of boiling water running down it. And the armchair's soaking... It looks like I've pissed on the armchair OH GREAT ANOTHER WIN FOR ME.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/jun/19/australia-hospital-alcohol-based-handwash-drunk

The above story also impressed me incredibly and next time I'm in hospital I shall be investigating said claims. I'm not quite stupid enough to drink a whole bottle but I'll definitely give some a lick and tell you what I think. At 66% it's not quite Pure Polish Spirit (which I will definitely be buying myself a bottle of when I'm declared cured... Possibly not the best of ideas, my celebratory cancer cured plans are more lethal than anything, with plans of spirits, tattoos and probably being put in prison in Belarus but you know, a day in Minsk and it's all worth it) but I'm sure it'll make the time in hospital a lot more fun :D

Snowdon next week. See what the news is. They'll be taking another chimerism so we can see if these lymphocytes have made me more or less cured! Excitingtimes :D

Constantinople.

xXx