Cream Tuckered

Hello hello mon petit pois,

Ah, my life. Oh, my cancer. There is a problem emerging, senor, like a hole in a door. My life is now more life than cancer. I seem to be writing here a whole lotta (Rosie) less frequently, partially because I'm such a busy dragon horseradish but also because I don't seem to do anything medical anymore. Appointments every four months is both a blessing and a curse; my world is quiet from the dulcet tones of leukaemia but then so is the fountain of experience that is my blog. Maybe someone should kick me in the shins super hard so I have something to talk about. 

I guess I can talk about virus number 37474575950. After battling that 'I am going to get a cold I feel it in my fingers I feel it in my lungs' feeling for a good couple of weeks my body finally gave in and I now I am once again mucus central. It's been a long while since I had quite so much stuff coming out of my lungs but I don't actually feel too terrible. Probably because I'm HIGH as a KITE from all the cleaning fluids I've been inhaling all afternoon. I may have given myself fifteen new cancers from all the chemicals but ostrich me my bathroom is shinier than a bald man in the rain. I wonder if we could stop global warming by making more bald men to reflect the sun's rays off? Christ, I'm a genius.

ohhhhhhh FUCK ME I just spilt tea in my crotch because a youtube video just decided to load on full volume a full two hours after I pressed on it why does the world hate me my thighs are lightly blanched I feel like an almond but not delicious even though almonds aren't even delicious anyway does anyone actually like fucking almonds oh lord my crotch is on fire I think I might go and hump the fridge. That was not my best move. That was moving into checkcrotchmate. La di dah.

ANYWAY ANYWAY ANYWAY.

I should probably brag about how I went to Serbia again and had a lot of fun. You can see how much fun I had in the above photo, it was wonderfully rainy and a giant finger took over the city. Little weekend trip, started in Belgrade, then to Vrsac, then over the border to Timisoara. Saw plenty of impressive things and ate a lot including a 'meat donut' which wasn't a donut at all, it was just a ball of unspecified dead animal. I touched a lot of cannons in a fortress, saw the biggest Orthodox cathedral in the world (and lit a candle for Naomi, not because I'm spiritual but because she loved her faith very dearly and you got to put your candle in sand and I love sand), went to Tito's mausoleum, stole a tram ride (almost entirely by accident), went to a weapons museum and dribbled everywhere, went to the Museum of the Romanian Revolution (amazing amazing amazing we went and it was closed and as we were walking away a car pulled up and said "You want museum?" and we said "yes but it's closed" and the little old man said "now it is open" and he opened the museum just for us it was amazing and he was a veteran of the revolution and had been shot twice in the leg), stayed in a fake windmill and did some other stuff too but this sentence is already long enough. I like seeing the things.

I now have two little holidays booked on the horizon. Off to Marrakech with my loverboy in December then on my super cheap Polish weekend in January. And by super cheap I mean super cheap. My return flight was £16 and my accomodation for two nights will be £15. Considering it costs me £15 to get to work and back on the train every day that's pretty fucking wonderful. I will always be the bargain queen. I may not be the health queen but  at least I'm good at something pashminas devinas :D  Even if I won the lottery tomorrow I'd still challenge myself to get a weekend away for under 30 quid. Fuckinghell I'm so lucky. Not being dead is amazing. I love Eastern Europe. Who'd have thought I'd be trotting around this much five years ago, eh?

Speaking of five years ago, I almost forgot that I had my five-year-bone-marrow-transplant-versary. Remember this? The super sexy photo of me having my brand new stem cells infused? This wonderful picture of me being so incredibly ill yet looking so very seductive. It's been asked more than once if it's ok to have a wank over this and I'm not sure quite what the answer is. I am of legal age, and even if I do say so myself I am rather smouldering. But then, hospital machinery. I suppose if you listen to those idiots who share those "cancer patients are all beautiful heart heart heart" bullshitures on facebook then obviously it's ok because if you don't you're saying I'm not beautiful or something. I am very beautiful. Like a framed bunch of grapes.

Christ, I scare myself with my deep-ness sometimes. But it is still hard to believe that was five years ago. I can remember being in that room, all the people who came to visit, how my favorite nurse had set the internet up for me so it was ready as soon as I got there. I remember meeting my crazy dietician for the first time and him trying to be trendy by talking about Depeche Mode. I remember them nicknaming me Woman of Steel and every medical professional stopping to have a nosey at all the photos on my wall. I remember saving up all my horrible poos for that one nurse I hated and I rememeber that sign I made saying you weren't allowed in unless you'd brought food. I remember my mum smuggling me in a forbidden salmon and cream cheese toastie and I remember doing science experiments with syringes to pass the time. I remember my hair falling out everywhere and creating a serious headache for the cleaners and I remember my bad influence friends making me to bad things with my electric bed.

But most of all I remember staring at that bag of stem cells and realising the rest of my life was contained in that one 200ml bag. Bizarre. I sort of knew then that I wasn't going to die. They may have only given me a 50% chance of me walking out of that room 'cured' but I always just had this feeling. I've never felt like I was going to die. I've looked in the eyes of so many people who are about to go and I've never looked in the mirror and seen that. I guess I've never really seen a cancer patient when I stare into the mirror. I've never felt like my life was a tragedy, Much much more a poorly written comedy.

The other thing I wanted to talk about was the whole tablets/no tablets debate. I've had quite a few people ask me how the stopping the tablets is going but I should clarify that I haven't stopped taking them yet, that's months away, I still have many meetings and discussions before that can be done. Bazillions. Quadrillions. Seventeenspoonfulbillions. That's on the backburner part of my mind right now though as I just want to relax and enjoy the autumnal zombie turned Santa vibe that is November. Hebeguntoshoutchimneyisstuckinrudolphwitchesandcarvings. I can see the moon and it's cold and I am a happy bunny. I'll be even happier in 39 hours for MYSTERIOUS REASONS. I'm like Mystic Meg but without a fringe.

Only a fortnight until Find Your Sense of Tumour and my amazing talk about getting your life back on track after cancer. Because obviously I have done that SO WELL LOOK AT ME SUCCEEDING AT EVERYTHING I HAVE MY OWN FLAT MY OWN JOB MY OWN HOLIDAYS AND MY OWN TOOTHBRUSH. It's all about the confidence. I may be a qualification-less lunatic but dayyyyyuuuummmm girl I can walk into a room and wave my arms around. You can do anything if you can wave your arms around. Butterfly effect and all that shit.

Anyway, I must be off. I'm having one of my infamous beauty evenings, dying my hair all the colours and painting my nails like an ECG. I wish I had a printout of one of my own so they could be double cool. OH LOOK AT MY ECG NAILS THEY'RE FROM MY OWN PERSONAL ECG SUCK ON MY BALLS. But alas, I am unprepared. No one will suck my balls today. (???).

Bye bye bye,

The Former Derbyshire Republic of Constanzistan

xXx

P.s When the fucking fuck will winter be here? I want some motherfucking snow. I want some motherfucking hail. I love the cold and I feel like I'm being robbed. Mother Nature is a slag.

P.p.s I have had too much fun this Halloween. I have my decorations up all year round so this is the only time of the year when I don't look completely mental. Gigantic laffs.

P.p.p.s I made buttercream cupcakes but I made too much buttercream so I ate it all and was nearly sick out of my living room window.

P.p.p.p.s Nearly forgot, I had a one-day mini-period on Halloween. Festive bleeding out my fanny. I am so goth.