My Liver Lives! :D

Afternoon. I just got back from hospital and as I was near my laptop I thought I'd share the today's fun and happenings :D

There was an impressive tour around Chesterfield this morning as we picked up most of the town's inhabitants. Seems everyone had cancer today. I was feeling a bit queasy so the extra trekking around various suburbs was not much appreciated. I also arrived too late to sneak up for a cooked breakfast, distressing....

Upon wandering to the outpatients it soon became apparent that I was not going to see Prof Ross. Not only was my appointment not in the system, but he also wasn't in the hospital, it got to the point where the receptionist began trying to convince me that I was making the whole thing up. Luckily Snowdon didn't let me down and he was there, ready and waiting for me to hobble in and be generally confusing. There was good news and neutral news. The good news is that my liver lives and I'm probably on the right dose of thyriod hormone and best of all NEXT TUESDAY'S NEBULISER WILL BE THE LASTTTTTTT!!! :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D As we all know, the dreaded nebuliser is my least favorite of all the treatments and general prodding (well, joint with MRSA swabs up my nose) so I can safely say it will not be missed in the slightest. The neutral news was that my chimerism wasn't back so the plan for the next few weeks is hazy, more will be known next week when the blood sample people pull their socks up. There will probably be more lymphocytes as I've had basically shit all graft versus host so my bone marrow has probably been sleeping as per usual. My body is so lazy.

So after I'd seen the haemo team I went off to try and solve the mystery of why I'd managed to be given an appointment with a doctor who wasn't there. Sometimes I genuinely believe that office workers do this kind of shit for kicks. After much investigation and many questions not much was found out. The woman who'd booked the appointment was 'off work today' (yeah, right) and I don't know where they'd dug the bloke who came to explain things to me up from, he looked more lost than an abandoned kitten. He said I'd get a new seperate appointment either the 2nd or 4th week of August. Great, another trip to the Hallamshire, right in the middle of my fun summer months! I went to my beloved secret stairwell and sat on the floor and banged my head on the wall for a little while and felt much better.

Went up for some sexy bloodletting where my veins were rather badly behaved. It was second time lucky, and not after some serious destruction of my right arm. That's what you get veins for withholding my blood. You are not Russia and my veins are not gas pipelines.


Had a peculiar experience on the way back through my beloved stairwell. You know when someone opens a door for you but you're a million miles away from the door and you have to speed up and run and it's just generally bloody awkward? Yeah, by the time all the above things had happened my legs had decided movement was no longer an option so holding onto doors, rails, walls and chairs was my only way of getting back to the ambulance pick up zone. I'd forgotten how much people stare when you're visibly struggling walking, there was one table of elderly people I nearly said something to, you'd have thought they were expecting a bloody tap dance. But anyway, as I was clinging onto the stair's handrail for dear life, moving at approximately one mile per century I heard the clippety clop of someone coming up behind me at quite a speed. Then they slowed down, which was a bit odd, they could easily overtake me, Dumbo could have got past and I'd have barely noticed. Perhaps just having a stare at my lovely arse. Then they went past, walked down the stairs and oh god, there's a door, PLEASE, lord, PLEASE don't hold the door for me, I'll be another 4 hours at least no no no oh crap he's holding it panic panic panic I'm taking years fuck fuck knees hurty whywhywhy etc etc etc... I eventually got there. But by the time I did I think the poor bloke was seriously regretting his chivalrous ways and now probably drops doors in the faces of all society. So yeah, thanks for being polite mate but next time, leave me locked in the stairwell. It's my hiding spot.

Cake time (don't really like cake but my mum's bought me one so I have to eat it... If anyone else wants it and you let me know in the next 2 minutes, it's yours). I checked my BMI this morning and I'm only a couple of pounds off being overweight, which is defintely not true. I look so healthy at the minute, government recommendations lie. I need to be careful though or I'll be as fat as a little piglet, damn my lack of hormones.

Stan-Con-Ze.

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