Swedish Cockduster

Yodel ay he hoo. So tired. Today took failure to a whole new level. But it's all done now, I danced on the edge of complete doom and went skipping back to complete success. And my did I dance.

So, my eyes are failing me a bit (the left one made a recored sized ball of pus this morning) hence I should probably try and make this short and in order to do so I might try and do the whole of the day's events in one massive great big supersentence. Will that work? It won't work. But I'll try anyway.

Get up, get dressed, it's about 12, chill and wait for medicar to arrive, get phonecall, "where are you?!?", "At home", "You should have been here at 10:30", "Erm I was told the afternoon", "Crap let me investigate this terrible error", wait, wait, eat cheesestring, wait, wait, twiddle thumbs and toes, wait, creep out the postman, get impatient because the only bus I could get on to replace the medicar leaves in 8 minutes, phone again, day ward being gay, informed there was never a medicar booked because someone forgot which is almost ok because I'd have been asleep anyway as I was all set for the afternoon, eep, someone is apparently coming now, wait, wait, wait, oh, it's 2:30, that's not good hurray, a man, not just any man but a man here to take me to hospital, get stuck in horrendous traffic, he thinks I'm going to outpatients, oh shit, I am not, how distressing, get to hospital, go to medicar desk to say I'll be in day ward not outpatients if any impatient drivers come looking for me, oh, look, who is it?, well by jove it's the driver who's going to take me home, he's been here for a quarter of an hour and I hadn't even arrived and he's trying to take me home oh lord how does the world keep spinning, he goes away to take other people home, I go upstairs, eat bag of nik naks, smell of onion quite strongly, YAY A TRANSPLANT NURSE, get hooked up to a sexy drip, sit about a bit as this was supposed to be happening 5 hours ago, everything is mad and topsy turvy, ooooo, it's the drugs that make me go bonkers and forget who I am I can feel them run through me veins and who are you again?, and why do I smell of sweetcorn?, enough of that my neck itches, Constanze why are you scratching your neck, oh I think I might have a bit of graft versus host, bad move saying that, I've talked myself into needing a doctor, ALARM ALARM halt lymphocytes PANIC get doctor oh bugger doctors are all hiding who needs a doctor what's my name what's my name oh look 45 minutes have passed but wait that's not Dr Dalley unless he's changed race and gender, no, it's a doctor who knows me but who the hell are they, they look cool so let's go with the flow, general prodding in the neck area, yes, it's definitely a neck, let me go and phone another doctor, other doctor agrees it's a neck and I can have my lymphocytes despite my slightly red raw neck, in they go, medicar driver is back and wants to whisk me away that ain't happening I am most definitely still attached to this drip stand he's my new best friend!, ooo, now I have two arms covered in cotton wool, and I am attached no longer, we'll just get you a porter Constanze because we don't trust your ability to get down 17 floors in one piece, now, I agree that's true but fuck the world I love getting lost and I need a wee and nothing will come between me and a toilet it's your own faults for giving me so much saline drip, escape escape, yesss, a toilet, top tip there, always piss before infusions, accidentally go to C floor because the lift door was broken and come one the letter a is shaped like the letter c, by jove I've found the medicar desk my driver is just leaving run after him fail to stop, have to be helped to the car, get stuck in multiple jams (not to mention the marmalade), mistake a potato sack for a cat at the end of my street, choose the right house because the drugs have semi worn off by now and I'm proper hard and good at numbers anyway, unlock the door with the wrong key because it's already unlocked and I'm HOME.


That was as clear as muck. Maybe I'll write more sense tomorow. Going to bed, too many drugs and too much fun make me a destroyed Constanze.

Stanzistan.

xXx

P.s I was going to take a cool photo to add to this post but unforunately I was too drugged up to know what day of the week it was, let alone use a camera. Or indeed remember that I had a camera, or a blog to post photos to. Whoops.