Will it work? Will it fucker's like...

Hello hello :) It seems like a decade since I last wrote here, yet it's only a week... How? When? If? WHERE? ARGH. BLARGHSSDDDDDSSSS. MADNESS. Runny nose. Sneezing. I WILL NOT HAVE A VIRUS ON MY BIRTHDAY. If I sniff hard enough all the shot will implode into a supermassive black hole up me nose. SORTED.

SO. Blogger is failing me and refusing to let me upload any photos to fully explain what Cancerstanze has been doing all week, fuckng shit wank bollocks. Too much swearing, I know, but I need a wee and can't be arsed to move and I want to finish this before I had a wee but I've spent about 100 years pressing UPLOAD UPLOAD FUCKING UPLOADDDDDDDDD. YES. It's worked! I can make sexy blog post! Constanze 1, World 0. Get to the point Stanley eh? Get a bit sharp like that knife.

Aaaaand the above photo summarises it all. Sat on a toilet surrounded by balloons. Not to mention my amazingly worn party hats (maturity central) Oooh baby, do you know what that's worth? Oooooo balloons in toilets is a heavenly place on Earth. (What?).

I climbed a mound. Not just any mound, but the biggest Iron age mound in England or something like that. And I did it in heels, much to the amusement/impressedness of the Russian tourist watching me. I can only begin to imagine how much more impressed he'd have been had he known how ill I was. The said mound was nearly the death of me. Although most things are, I always say that. Don't push me 'cause I'm close to the edge... Of the mound. I'm just enjoying saying the word mound, it pleases me greatly.

Showed myself up bragging and all. I am sat on a wall. Nicky comes over and he's all like "Let's move biatch" and offers his hand in support. Like the rude slag I am I was all like "I CAN DO IT MYSELF" to which I promptly attempted to get up and went straight back down again. Moral of the story? I have many things to show off, my mobility prowess is not one of them.

Oh, and a small child pushed me over to see if I fell over 'like a domino'. I did. I befriended an old man who was as bad at walking as me in Derby station as we both 'rushed' when the train changed platforms... He offered to pull my case. He had two walking sticks... Bless. I'm in love. At least some Northern men are nice! So many fun things I can't even begin to tell you... The showing my pants to most of Brum Moor Street station wasn't very fun for me, but then, I do that every week so I should be used to it now :S

Hospital wise all my illusions of a couple of weeks off have come crashing down like a slippery saucepan... Being the good patient I am I spent a long time phoning people when I got back from my trip and somehow managed to talk myself in to at least one appointment next week :S Prof Ross should be on Tuesday, but after last time I am not hopeful. It'll probably be shit boring anyway, all like yeah, drugs are working, thyroid is replaced, woohoo, party. Lymphocyte infusion will probably happen next week too. All the same stuff, the same cycle, over and over, wait, wait, wait, chimerism, bla bla bla, must get cured, must achieve something in life other than getting cancer. Bla bla blaaaaaaaa.

I must be off. Birthday tomorow. Bought such a nice dress. See you when I'm 21. OH CHRIST. I'm nearly 21. My cancerversary is so much better than my birthday. Got cancer when I was 18. Best 18-21 club in the world :D I've lived to 21, top job Constanze! Must listen to the Bee Gees to celebrate!

Con-stan-stan-stan-ze.

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P.s Here's me sightseeing at Stratford-Upon-Avon hospital... Come on, who wants to see any of that Shakespeare crap when you can admire all the people with minor injuries?

P.p.s Must say special thanks to Susie and Perch for letting me invade their respective houses. Much fun was had! I came first in monopoly and last in musical chairs.

P.p.p.s I look remarkably like Shakespeare, non? Please excuse my facial expression, it was sunny and I was probably talking because I never fucking stop. Not to mention the fact I was crouching, which my legs just don't do. I also realise this photo contrdicts the "Who wants to see all the Shakespeare crap" comment above. I pretty much answered my own stupid question... Tardstanze.