Wishy Washy Lungy Mashy

Yo ho yo ho,

I went to hospital yesterday. That's a lie. I went to TWO hospitals yesterday. And stripped down to my pants in both of them! What a whore. It was all a cit chaotic because it was the doctor's strike and there was a picket line and I'm not sure if I'm a traitor because I am so on the junior doctor's side but I am also on the side of having medical treatment so SORRY JUNIOR DOCTORS I only betrayed you because I'd already booked my trains and also I want to live and stuff.

I got up in the dark and got on the bus in the dark and fell asleep in the dark and woke up on the beautiful bypass and realised I was the hungriest woman on the earth. So I fast waddled up to my usual hospital and beelined for the canteen. FRIED BREAD. Get in my pit stomach. FRIED EGGS. Get in my gaping hole. They've reduced the price of sausages by 10p as well. More evidence that jesus loves cancer patients. I worship at the church of breakfast induced heart disease.

They'd cancelled about three quarters of the appointments so hospital was surprisingly quiet and I was seen less than half an hour after I arrived. The best news was that I've put on some pounds and I am my ideal weight, about ten stone eleven. A mild heft. Thankyou Christmas extravagance. Now I just have to keep up that extravagance for the rest of the year and I can be a sexy curvy cancer queen. HOBNOB ANYONE?

Firstly we discussed the important issue of my holiday (seriously, who wastes consultant's time talking about illness, jeez) as I'm going to Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan for another of my solo adventures in May and at least one of those countries likes putting innocent people in prison for smuggling penicillin. Hence me trying to get as many official looking documents with my name and my drugs' names on as possible. I am not a one woman Derbyshire cartel.

Then onto my lungs. OH MY LUNGS. She had a listen and apparently all the liquid is still sloshing around in there. My cancer drug is only a decade old and they're really only just finding out the long term effects, one of which is apprently this fluid. I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE. Out there are hundreds of other leukaemia ridden bags of fluid on legs. I don't like the name. Pleural effusion. It sounds like a Poundland fragrance. They're going to drain some out to test it, I finally youtubed how they do that and it's not very pretty. Like a bone marrow extraction for the lung. Like doing a little wee wee out your back.

Afterwards they stole some blood as always and I wandered off to have not one but two xrays. One of my chest and one of my lumbar area (I've been backache central over Christmas). I didn't do a very good job of covering my bum with my robe and one of the poor nurses kept trying to cover it and I kept uncovering it because there aren't very many occasions when you can walk around with your bum hanging out and getting a nice air without being arrested so I am going to damn well take advantage thankyou very much.

Pharmacy was a bit of a disaster as they have some new system for chemo drugs and some box wasn't ticked on my request form and they couldn't give me anything until someone important has ticked the box so I had to leave without them as I had another appointment at another hospital on the other side of the city. They offered to deliver them but I don't think the girl realised that Luton isn't a suburb of Sheffield. LOLZ. I'll pick them up at the weekend. Probz.

I got on the special hospital shuttle bus along with a man who looked scarily like a real life Mr Burns and a group of teenagers who seemed to think the diverse crowd of the H1 bus would really appreciate some Kanye West remixes. The crowd seemed a little sedate but then what can you expect from the druggiest bus in South Yorkshire. The bus arrived at the Northern General and my heart sunk lower than Katie Price's morals. I hate the Northern General. Hate hate hate. It's basically really spread out on a hill. Why the cunt testicle would you build a hospital on a hill? I got a bit lost on my way to the clinic but luckily a handsome young doctor walked me there... Maybe I hated it just a little bit less after that ;)

I stripped off again and went for my metabolic bone scan. That's the one I have every couple of years to check that my bones haven't turned into some terrible mushy snappy fragile mess. I don't feel like that have. I headbutt a lot of things and don't seem to break all too much. I headbutted a toilet door the other day. I was on the toilet repairing my shoe and my door burst open when a woman rammed her luggage into the stall next to me and whacked me one. Oh, the glamour. But yeah, my skull didn't turn into dust so all is probs good? Who knows. We'll find out in a few weeks.

THEN IT WAS NANDOS TIME. Got on the bus then the tram and NANDOED so DAMN hard. All the halloumi. All the mash. And while I was chomping away... The phone rang. Withheld number. That motherfucking hospital. Leave me alone. My fingers were too covered in dead chicken juice to answer but when I did finish gorging I listen to my answerphone. My drugs are ready, can I come and pick them up? NO. NO I CANNOT. I GOT UP AT 6AM AND IT IS NOW 5PM and I want to go home to bed, not go all the way back to hospital I am too full of breast. So my mu went to pick them up today. They didn't even ask her for any ID. Which is a tad worrying. If any of you want to steal some chemo for the black market now's your chance!

And that's it! As you can see, not the most informative of days. It was more about taking than giving. I am still fluid. But it looks like they might reduce the dose of my tablets. Just got to wait for them to tippety tap tap my chest cavity like a sexy beer barrel of cancer. Hurrah.

It's been a weird week. All the celebrities have died of cancer. Lemmy (MOTHERFUCKING LEMMY), Bowie and Professor Snape. Money can't buy your health kids. So spend it all on tits and food and dwarf hamsters before you get bum cancer and die of not being able to sit down.

It's time to go and find a cardboard box. I need a cardboard box.

Night night night,
Constanze xXxXxXxXx