No medical news whatsoever

Evening to you all. Or morning. What do you call 25 minutes past midnight? I have no idea. I also have no idea why I'm up so late. Well, I have a sneaking suspicion, it could well be that my body is SO FULL OF STEAK that my stomach is pressing on my eyeballs and keeping me up but we'll never know. There really is very little medical news to speak of other than the fact that the Hallamshire hospital automated appointment reminder machine phoned me up to ask if I was still coming next week and I swore at it a lot because it asked me the same question FOUR TIMES and I was confused. I don't know. I really have eaten a lot of steak and I think it's pressing on my brain too. I'm relatively sure of my own name but past that there's just a rack of ribs where my memory should be...

I've been promising a post about sad things for quite a while but as I'm rarely sad this doesn't seem to be happening so I think I'll attempt to make one now because this steak is showing no signs of giving up on getting revenge for me eating it and it's going to be a long night of oh my god I'm so full oh my god I'm so happy oh my god I love food oh my god my stomach is going to explode. The thing is with me is that I get sad about some little thing but within the space of an hour or two I've gone round in the same thinking circle (because I always get sad about the same things) and start laughing at myself and get happy again and this only really happens once or twice a month and it's really stupid because I really do have very little to be sad about and why do I keep saying really. My number one hate in life is how people constantly focus on what they haven't got instead of what they have. It's very silly. I'm also not sure how to write about sad things. Maybe I should list my occasional sad thoughts and then the hilarious thought process that follows as I spectacularly fail at having any other mood other than DRUG LIKE HAPPY. This is going to work. A ridiculous statement my brain decides is true then about 74 minutes later decides isn't. Winwinwinmeizfordawin.

RIDICULOUS STATEMENT #1- "All my friends have just graduated with degrees, I am so sad because I don't have one and I'm not a medical physicist like I should be right now if cancer hadn't got in the bloody way"

Yeah, it's true, if I hadn't have got cancer I would have my lovely Oxford degree and I'd be physicsing it up with some MRI scanner somewhere in some some filled someplace but do I really want to have to learn shitloads of maths that I can never learn because I don't understand maths what the hell how the hell do I intergrate that? I am 21 which when you think about it isn't really very old at all and a third of a degree is nearly a degree, hopefully employers won't notice? I can write it in really small font, that'll fool them, [size=1]third of a[/size][size=8]OXFORD PHYSICS DEGREE[/size] and they'll never know. Sorted.

RIDICULOUS STATEMENT #2- "Waa, I'm so sad because I'm too ill to have a boyfriend properly and even when I do try I feel like a shit girlfriend because I can never do anything"

It is true that being as ill as I am and going out with someone is sort of impossible but not because I'm doing it now surprisingly successfully but it is hard and can grind a bit when everything in the world is so difficult for me to do. Can't do x, can't do y, can't walk to z. But then I remember that sitting on the sofa all day with Constanze is fine and wonderful because my BEAUTIFUL GOOD LOOKS and MOST FAVORABLE PERSONALITY mean you don't have to leave the sofa to have fun. And I've only even fallen asleep having sex once so all is good. I can have sex (and stay awake now!) and pass the tv remote, that's all you need a woman to do! That and make you heaps of useless origami balls.

RIDICULOUS STATEMENT #3- "Boo hoo, my side hurts and my knees hurt and they always hurt and I keep nearly dying and I'm only 21 and take HRT this is silly and bla bla bla whine whinge whine so many medical problems and nearly death stuff and I'm very young generic complaints"

If I get better I won't get to see Yusef. If I get better I won't get to see Snowden. More medical problems= more of my top hospital staff? I'm alive so what what the bloodyhell am I complaining about? And if I'm dead it's not as if I'm going to really give a shit because I'll be in Little Nicky hell, the best place to go when you die. You get to shove pinapples up Hitler's arse! Also I'm famous for saying no pain no gain so with all this pain there must be some gain and I'm sure I'll find it eventually. Perhaps in a box of tramadol? And come on, how many people can say they beat their mum to the menopause? Or that they're the only person of their age with their fucked up sort of cancer? It's just me and my dodgy chromosome in a sea of love.

RIDICULOUS STATEMENT #4- "General sob, I'm sure I used to have loads of friends and now I have about three"

Cancer is very helpful for culling wankers out of your life. Any people that you lose contact with probably aren't worth bothering with so why the hell am I getting sad? This is silly. The main person who's vanished from my life was the absolute centre of my life for many years and now he's buggered off I'm a hell of a lot happier. If you add the happiness of getting rid of the baggage of all the other rubbish people I'd accidentally aquired along the way than that probably goes some of the way to explaining how I can be so FULL OF CANCER yet so FULL OF FUN. There really is no point to being sad about losing people who aren't worth keeping. It's important to go for quality, not quantity, and by lord do I have quality. And quantity actually when it comes to absolute bloody madness but I'd better not get into that or several people will be sectioned.

But basically, all I ever really need think when I'm sad is how I'm still alive. And being alive, well, nothing can ever beat that :D

Constanze :) xXxXx