Lady Anvil Stomach

Guten tag. Abend, was auch immerz.

Just woke up from a day of sleep and guess what... I'm tired! All that dreaming of crap and whales and bananas and something to do with Total Wipeout really takes it out of you. But seriously, I really don't understand this. It would seem everything in the world designed to make me less tired actually tires me out and tires out the tiredness of my tired self. Perhaps it's just thought of my own stupidness regarding the next week... Sometimes I feel like I actually am trying to kill myself (accidentally, more manslaughter myself) with sleep and mashed feet (hanging and overdoses are SO last season). The world is home from afar and all desire my company, in order to compensate for my months of doing nothing alone in the fields of Derbyshire everyone has come home graduated and unemployed and running into the arms of the dozing Constanze.

Tomorow I am going to London to visit the wonderful Eleanor for her birthday celebrations, Monday I am in hospital, Tuesday is steak eating with Bianca, Thursday is big meet up drinks, Friday is a massive antiques fair (this event only appeared today, my mum won tickets and this is the only day we could go... It's the icing on the cake of my own destruction), Saturday is Joe's birthday, Monday is meeting directors for that cancer film, then Tuesday back in hospital... Then I'll collapse into a heap and swear to never do this to my cancery self again. Considering I was nearly screaming after standing up for a 20 minute bus journey the other day it'll be somewhat humourous to see all the swearwords that will appear on my blog during/after the next ten days. Exciting? Yes. Stupid? Very.

Kind of excited about hospital on Monday as they will be taking lots of blood for chimerism/thyriod purposes... And we know what that means. A progress report. Are Constanze's thyroid drugs working? Does she have more or less cancer? More lymphocytes required? Any blood at all, in fact, all the other questions rely on that being positive... Should probably mention that I've nearly beheaded myself scratching my neck so much. And I sort of feel a bit like I swallowed an anvil, whenever I move it feels like someone's been sellotaping weights to my stomach wall. But, you know, if I use the words anvil and sellotape in my descriptions of wellbeing they'll just pop me off down the psychiatric ward... I also pulled an almost record sized lump of pus from my left eye yesterday. For a moment I was concerned that I'd actually pulled my whole eye out but luckily I still have all three. Definitely quite like being Lemur Polyphemus in a weird kind of way, I can disgust the world with no major loss of my eyesight.

Speaking of disgust, it was in the news this week that 4/10 people will get cancer in their lifetime, a rise in numbers. Talk about JUMPING ON THE BANDWAGON PEOPLE. I mean, come on, seriously? I know I'm proper cool like but there are easier ways of getting kudos than cancer. It also made me feel that little bit less special... 4/10. That's nearly everyone. I need to get a better disease.

To summarise, I have enjoyed my week off but I am now getting a bit hospital-sick. I want to see the beautiful off white walls and dance (ahem) down the cleaning fluid scented corridors and skip into examination room two and see what Lord Yusef has to say. I am the Lord of the Cancer, said me.

Bed. Bed bed bed. Soon I'll soon 21, hopefully I won't sleep through that :D

xXx

P.s I received complaints about my last post. Mr A. Woodall sent me a personal message complaining that there was a "disappointing lack of amazing Adamtimes. 6/10." so on behalf of Constanze and all her cancery cells I can only offer my sincere apologies and say that EVERY SECOND I SPEND ALIVE IS AMAZING ADAMTIMES because I never cease to think about the wonderful Adam. Although admittedly less now you don't have that saxophone.