I started a joke...

Good evening folks. Blogger and I have finally settled our differences and I can now post posts as long as I don't get angry and attack my keyboard anymore. Happy times.

I have learnt many things over the past few days, mainly that my legs are even shitter than I had even imagined but also that 9/10 people think I am faking my cancer. Seriously. No one believes me. Ever. They get angry. Really angry... It is most distressing (got such a disgusted look from an eldery couple today when I got out the car with my disabled pass in the window... If only they knew). The above picture was taken with some leukaemia money collectors I found in Bath and my god did I accidentally convince them I was a cancer faker. I saw them from afar and went running up to them (running is perhaps a slight over-exaggeration... Did a fast walk/hobble towards them, looking a bit like a very damp rabid beast)

"Eee, leukaemia people, I have leukaemia, can I have a photo with you :D" was the killer opening line I used

*bemused look from leukaemia people*

"Ok, sure... How long have you had it for?" quizzed one of the women in reply. Obviously at this moment I panicked because I have fuck all memory (I could have had cancer for a week or a decade, I don't know, I don't remember these silly little things) and questions are confusing.

"Erm... I don't know" *turns to Adam* "ADAM HOW LONG HAVE I HAD CANCER FOR?"

"I don't know... Like two years?" replies Adam.

"Yeah.. Two years, that's it" I added, really helping the situation. You can imagine the rest of the conversation. I pretty much got my photo, thanked them and trotted off as fast as I could. I am an embarassment to my illness. I bet those four girls quite their jobs after meeting me... Bugger.

Today was also an interesting one. I got bitten by a duck, I hope you can't get aids or chickenpox or mumps from ducks because he very nearly drew blood and I'm not sure my body can fight many more illnesses. My friend and I were mobbed. Absolutely mobbed. If those ducks had been humans they'd be on Crimewatch. Ducks are bastards. Complete bastards. You're just not allowed to bite cancer patients, it's one of those general life rules. I'll add a photo tomorow of me actually running (the only thing that's made me run in my whole bloody life) away from a crowd of angry hungry ducks. These things can only happen to me...

My back has been killing today which I am taking as a good sign that my bone marrow is having a big big battle and the Germans have broken out the tanks and are now crushing that last of my native bone marrow and making a big sexy occupied state. I love having a whole political revolution happening in my spine.

No hospital until Monday. Then they will take around twenty million tubes of blood from me to test my bone marrow and thyroid and liver and all the organs in the universe to see if I am more or less or the same amount of cured.

Sleep now :D

Constanzistan.

xXxXx

P.s Just read this back and there is lots of terrible grammar about. Sorry. I'm too tired for this. I always say that, I know, you're bored of hearing my excuses but it's true.

P.p.s I would just like to clarify for all the people who saw this status on facebook "wet fart, brown trousers :(" that it was in fact a facebook rape and I still have full control of my bowels. I mean, not only am I more of a burping woman than a farting woman but I also don't wear trousers and don't shit myself. With friends like Joe I am never ever going to find myself any kind of man. Actually I think I may have shot myself in the foot here, I mean, Joe ruined my chances with anyone on my fb friends list, and by adding that status here I have now ruined my chances with the whole internet. Oh dear.