The 8th & 9th; We were running out of time.
The 8th of May. I think Frieda has sorted herself out. I know this because I spent most of this glorious afternoon watching her for litter tray activity. Such a glamourous life I lead.
I didn't watch Sunday Brunch this morning because it involved John Barrowman AND Piers Morgan, two people I simply cannot abide. So while I updated my blog, I caught up on a couple of episodes of Limitless. We also watched an ambulance which pulled up outside because we're nosey. One of our neighbours got stuck on her stairlift last night and was there all night without food or water so needed to be taken into hospital and checked over.
This afternoon, as I say, I went and kitten-watched. Well, kittens and Netflix. I've got very into iZombie, created by Rob Thomas who did Veronica Mars, so obviously it's excellent. After a good three hours, I needed a break, so I went upstairs to look at my notes from the children's hospital to help with writing my Anthony Nolan talk. I've skimmed through nearly 1300 pages so far and found some tidbits but nothing really of use yet. Except that I've had my diagnosis anniversary wrong - it was the 16th of August, not the 18th. Whoops. Lots of drawings of my eyes when I had GvHD there, pages of sample analysis including a trephine in which I had "2 unidentified female lines" (2 DNAs) and emails about liver transplant protocol which couldn't be agreed and we were running out of time because my brain was diseased.
Ah, memories!
The 9th of May.
Today it is so warm that even I, the coldest person in the world, am able to wear just a vest and be comfortable. It is truly a miracle.
It's been a good day. I spoke to Elaine, the menopause clinic nurse specialist this morning and we went through what's been going on and what my concerns are. She has clinic with Dr. Robinson tomorrow, so was going to look at my notes this afternoon, discuss what I've said and ring me back. She did say that the coil would be the first treatment they'd try for any endometrial problem so I should feel reassured by that.
This afternoon was a gym trip. Nobody irritated me today which is always a bonus, and the man who does super burpees and all sorts of other energetic exercises was there, so he kept me entertained. I was faintly amused by some boys who were flexing their muscles in the mirror, showing off, and one had rolled up his shorts so we could all see his enormous thighs in their entirety. They looked ridiculous,
In the changing room, I had a chat with a lady who thought she knew me from Sainsbury's or another shop, and I said no, but she might have seen me in that Sutton Observer. I then had to explain why, and she didn't know that leukaemia was cancer. So I've imparted some knowledge.
