Remember when I was an Olympic diver......?

Good evening to you all. So, this and that has happened since my last post, the main thing being some other cancery people and I got to watch/meet some of the Olympic diving team. Obviously I know loads about diving (get on board, jump off board, MAKE FUCKING HUGE SPLASH) so I was able to impress everyone with my amazing insight into the world of diving (NO SNORKELS HERE). It came to my attention when I got to Ponds Forge (absolutely giant swimming pool in Sheffield, size of a whale times a mountain times my bum) that this was the first time I'd been near a swimming pool since primary school and I was impressed at how well I've avoided exercise over the course of my life. As those of you in England will know, there is currently snow EVERYWHERE, on cats and rats and ceilings and palm trees and forks and chairs and so the whole world is in chaos and my bus was a year late and I had a massive breakfast cob, sausage, eggs and mushrooms and I can't walk and eat and avoid snow and yet after all this I still managed to arrive on time. Then I dropped my breakfast cob on the toilet floor. Actually I did that later but I carried it for years because stuff kept happening and then I fucking dropped it and I am a human disaster. But anyway there was fun on trampolines, or rather fun on trampolines while I watched because of my chronic phobia of breaking any more of me. Let's not forget that I broke a rib coughing so god only knows what a trampoline could to to me, haha :)

Then we wandered down to the pool and we watched people jump off things and I discovered that diving is a lot more exciting in real life. Every time someone jumps off something your heart stops and doesn't start again until they resurface in one piece. It also turns out that walking ten metres horizontally is relatively easy, but walking ten metres vertically is a whole different kettle of fish. Small heart attack was had but luckily I was so red from how HOT it was in there (suddenly my thick cardigan, Docs and long skirt seemed a little overdressed) that no one really noticed. Got to play dares with how close to the edge of the 10m diving board we dared go because we're hardcore. By the end we all had our legs dangling over like the mental madmen we ill people are, after cancer I think we'd dangle our legs over the Grand Canyon. Or at least I would, but I'm an idiot and I frequently do stupid things that seem sensible at the time but then it rapidly becomes apparent that BOILING WATER BURNS. But yes, fun was had, even though I spent most of my time not knowing where to look due the lack of clothes and plethora of speedos. The Victorians really did have the right idea about swimming. I don't care if full body swimsuits are impractical, as my dress sense proves, it's not the practicality that counts, it's the amount of skin you can cover and magpies you can attract!

Then we all wandered over to Weston Park (the main cancer hospital) for a few hours to make a film about different types of vomit. It made me feel rather inadequate as I never realised how many sorts of vomit I've never vomited. Frothy vomit? Who the hell vomits frothy vomit? I want to find them and find out their secret. And all the biley vomit we made just looked like the poos I used to do when I was having radiotherapy so my brain was just confused and I'm fairly sure you didn't want to know what. But basically there's a million different voms for me to vom even though my vomming days are over. I often forget just how sick I used to be and how often. I HAVE BEEN SO ILL. What goes down must come up?

There have been no visits to hospitals for actual medical treatment (well, not my own treatment) so there is shit all to report. My legs are very very very sore after all the gallavanting, but then what do I expect after skipping around pools and parks and museums? I'm starting to realise that fatigue will always be a huge part of my life. But I am epically skilled at managing it so fuck you tiredness.

Sweets and murder time now anyway so I had better be off. This fat arse doesn't grow itself you know!

Constanzistanzistanzistan :) xXx

P.s It's not weird, you just found a fanny to hide in.