Chubby Chaser

Sooooooooooo, where to begin. Today was a day with news and masks and news and more masks and SAUSAGES and news and this and that and millions and this and this and that and that and everything in the world that got invented and whatnot. The day started with a medicar and Tears for Fears on the radio and a very excited Constanze. The driver said I looked too young to be a Tears for Fears fan which I guess was a compliment but also YES I DON'T LOOK LIKE I'M PUSHING 50 YEARS OLD. Massive age besed victory. After managing to not sing loudly for the whole song I fell asleep due to epic levels of tiredness and didn't wake up until I was being hit on the head with a seatbelt (something like that) and turfed out somewhere near the eye clinic. After a minor disagreement with a kerb (since when did they get so... mobile?) I signed in at outpatients and snook off upstairs to get me some delicious COOKED BREAKFAST. I ate it in the waiting corridor and everyone just stared in desire and longing in my direction. I'm surprised I wasn't mugged if I'm honest about it. Time passed and I looked at some pictures of Mongolians and waterfalls and timbleweed rolled and finally some doctors arrived... And some interesting sentences were said.

"You're 100% male"

Yep. My solid bone marrow (the one from my extraction, not to be confused with my blood chimerism) is 100% male, meaning my bone marrow is completely my donors, meaning I am really epic at not growing any more cancer. But yeah, knowing that inside I'm a little bit male is a bit strange, even if it is only my marrow and blood. Maybe I'll start eating my own bogies and scratching my crotch more. Who knows? I'll keep you updated.

"My only concern is that you've put on a lot of weight since your last appointment"

That's right. I am now a fatty. The effect wasn't helped by the massive packet of sweets I was holding. I've put on a few pounds since my last appointment 6 weeks ago which could be a sign of some thyroid madness (they have been struggling to get my dose quite right) so if I keep getting fatter and fatter it'll be more trips to the thyroid clinic for me (and maybe a massive explosion of fat and organs). I'm not sure what it really means, probably I'm not on a high enough dose, I doubt it's anything sinister. According to NHS guidelines I am offically OVERWEIGHT. CHUBBBBBBSTANZE. I haven't noticed any extra weight though. All my clothes fit. It's very confusing because I'm not actually fat at all. I mean, my arse is, but the rest of me is thin. I'm a size 8/10 on top and a 14 on bottom which is perfect and delicious. I have a lovely figure. A lovely, apparently overweight figure. I am not overweight! I am so confused. On paper I am a fatty, in real life I am a fat arsed heap of sexy. Maybe I should post more photos of me in tight clothing so you can make your own judgement? Talk about one extreme to the other, this time last year I couldn't put weight on, now I'm starting to resemble a whale. Not that I ever will because I'd sooner die than get fat. Complicated. Can't make sentences. All of energy is being used sustaining my large derriere.

Then I had a massive future based talk with Snowdon about what the fuck I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Do more Oxford physics, swap to medicine, try and get a job in stamp investments, something else, so confused, anyone want to employ me? Constanze's CV- I can walk about ten feet, fall over with ease and I probably have some qualifications but I misplaced all my certificates so you'll have to trust me on that. Bloodyhell. Someone tell me what to do please please por favor?

It's Find Your Sense Of Tumour this weekend (the big young people cancer conference at Centre parcs) and I am extremely excited. I want to celebrate my relative wellness and definitely not drink too much vodka. The only problem is the ancient Greek theme party on the Sunday night which I'm taking FAR TOO SERIOUSLY. I'm making a peplos in the most historically accurate material I can find. I can see I'm going to come across a bit of an arsehole being obsessed with historical accuracy, if anyone comes out in dark blue I'm not sure I'll be able to hold my tongue. I already sounded like a right gay pointing out that togas are actually Roman. I can't decide whether to show a bit of ankle and pretend to be all sexy and Spartan or whether to stick with the stereotypical plain long robes that we all think the Greeks wore. I'm not sure I'm racy enough to be a Spartan. And Greeks didn't wear shoes so WTF am I going to do, I can't leave the house without heels on!!! So much to plan.

Anyway, I'm off to get some food and make myself even fatter so I can get lifted about in a crane. I'd love to be moved around by crane, why are there so many reasons for me to be MORE ILL SILLY WORLD???

Constanze :) xXxXx

P.s Why do hospital always phone me at the most mental moments? They phoned the other day while I was having a wee, then again when I was boarding a train with a massive rolly case. There are times when I want EVERYONE'S WEARING A MASK INFECTION INFECTION warnings and time when I just want to empty my bladder in peace. Thankyou.

P.p.s I also asked Snowdon about tattoos. His answer was as confusing as Yusef's. Basically, it's a stupid idea, but I am full of stupid ideas.