Doodles.

So I got a bit bored. And drew on my wrist, like you do.

Perfectly normal.

I was originally still trying to design the tattoo I want (sticking with 'Breathe' and finally finding a font I like) and now I can't decided where I want it. Basically, wherever I chose, it's gonna hurt like a bitch, right? Especially b/c apparently if it's close to the bone, it hurts more. And I can't decide between on the back/base of my neck, or on the inside of my wrist.

Obviously I can't draw on the back of my neck without it resembling a total mess, but I can draw on my wrist. It's not the easiest of things but not impossible. And I ended up with this:


I'm so aware that's pretty shitty quality on the photo front, but I just used my phone as grabbing my camera involved more effort than it was worth. But yeah, that's the general idea of the tattoo I want. And whether I do choose to go for the wrist or neck, it can be hidden fairly easily (I wear my watch on my left wrist, and you're pretty hard pushed to find me in public with my hair up) in those moments when people throw hissy fits if you happen to have a tattoo.

Ch-ch-changes

This was me yesterday:


This is me now:

Not a massive difference, but it's not been this short for a good 7 years. Feels so weird. With my luck, if I decide I like it, it'll grow back fast (It does that) or if I decide that its too short, it'll take years to get anywhere near the length it originally was (It does that too).

At clinic on Weds, I gained weight again (I'm getting good at this!) so I'm now 46.2kg and my LF is back up to mid-high 70%s despite me feeling not really like it. But I'm really happy about this as it meant for the first time in a fair few clinic appts, no cipro, IVs or anything were mentioned. I did tell the Dr about the hemo I stupidly managed to cause by running across campus at college on Saturday. He said it was probably just b/c of all the coughing (well yeah, but it doesn't happen much so it still scared the fuck out of me). My dietitian finally did the annual review she'd been meaning to get round to. And now she wants me to do a glucose test thing. Which means on the 26th May, people at clinic are NOT gonna be seeing the nice side of me, at 9am, hungry as hell, stuck in a room for a few hours.

One bad thing about clinic was the nurse who flushed my port. She managed to make it really hurt when she put the needle in (which is odd for me as I rarely ever even notice it b/c I'm so used to it), she managed to make the port bleed back, and it's never done that in the 2 1/2 yrs I've had this one. And, to top it off, when she took out the needle, it hurt 10x more than putting the needle in. I actually yelled 'OW!!' when she did it. And I never do that. The second she backed off, I walked straight out the room and left. Another nurse saw I was pissed off and followed, asking what was up, and I told him that the nurse who just flushed my port is never, ever getting near me again. I have no idea what she did, but she did it wrong, and my ports been sore since. Fair enough, it was kind of sore the past few days too, so I was slightly apprehensive about this port flush, but now I'm really worried shes wrecked it somehow. Which means I get to do my whole paranoid thing about it until my next appt.

Add this to the fact she was speaking to me like I was a completely dense, and it's probably a good thing I was distracted with my port b/c I wasn't above extending my middle finger in her direction. Suffice to say, if I hadn't gotten a fit technician for lung function, I would have had a really crap day.

Welcome to the land of 'Everything just fucking sucks'.

I REALLY FUCKING HATE EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW.

I just don't give much of a crap right now so I'm gonna rant and you can think what you like. I'm not always this pissed off, so at least remember that this is me after a really bad day or week, or whatever. Just so you know, telling me to calm down won't. help. anything.

I've come to decide that everyone and everything just sucks and there may be no good in the damn world now, b/c you just get fucked around so much you start wondering if you'll get any good in your life. In fact, even if you did, it'll be so small and not-even-that-good, that you'd not notice and continue being a snappy little bitch.

"Everyone is entitled to a bizarrely upsetting day.
Everyone is entitled to have an outburst of ginormous proportions"

A friend told me this a while ago. I completely forgot about it until a few days ago. I have literally no idea how I remembered it word for word, as anyone who knows me knows that my memory is (to put it lightly) really shit. In fact, anyone who read the 'Stuff I've lost recently' blog would probably whole heartedly agree with me saying that.

Back to where I started though... I'm stressed. Everyone I know is either ill or getting ill or having a crap time and stressed out themselves and I feel like I don't have the right to get pissed or upset about stuff. I don't mind when people talk about their problems to me. In fact, despite the fact that they're going through a crappy situation, I like knowing that we're close enough that they can trust me with that stuff. It just feels like there's no time for me to loose it, so to speak, b/c I'm trying to help them and I just feel even worse when I can't help.

It's no one's fault, and I won't ever blame them, when they forget that you might be going through something too. I'd rather they did forget whilst they deal with their stuff.

When I'm going through something that I don't want to admit to, I'll ignore it and keep busy and we all know that helps no one. Actually, I think it makes it worse when you can't say what's bugging you. As perplexing as that sounds, I do get bugged a lot by things I just can't explain. Which in turn just stresses me out more b/c I can't figure out what the fuck is even up with me.

All I know that college stuff - still no answers from UCAS, student finance and unhelpful people are all stressing me out. I'm starting to feel all crappy again lung-wise and that's starting to take the piss, along with my shoulders, back, ribs and lungs hurting all the time, and even worse if I breathe deeply or dare to even think about coughing. And then there's stuff that I can't and won't talk about b/c it involves other people and even if I don't leave many stones unturned in my own life I might as well leave them some privacy.

As difficult as I find it, if I did talk to someone about this, about everything, I'd probably not make sense, and it seems like I'm overreacting to the problem. And that's another reason why avoiding something that is up is a bad idea - The stress and pressure builds up until it seems so much bigger than it really is. And then, if you admit what's up and talk to someone, then it doesn't seem as big or problematic as you'd think.

And then you feel like a complete idiot for getting upset over something you've managed to blow out of proportion.

And just for added effect, if I don't just seem pissed off enough, I took a picture of my hearing test results from last Monday when I went to the ENT. I don't think 'pathetic' even quite covers it - my results are so crap they don't fit on their shitty little chart anymore. They had to put little arrows next to the markers to show that my hearing is below what the chart records.

[Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr]

[I look thrilled, obviously. I get so bored in these hearing tests b/c I can't hear the majority of the nosies, which means no button pressing for me. Walk in on me in that room in the middle of the test, you're most likely gonna find me bored out of my skull (even if it is just a couple of minutes long test) with my feet on the table and staring at the wall. I clearly do hearing tests with class.]

So yeah; I'm pissed off and I don't even care anymore.

*Feels all potentially collected good karma evaporate instantly*

Well, fuck.

Spring!

Am I the only one thinking 'Well you took your damn time...' !

Insomnia.

On a grand scale...

It's fucking 6am!! Gah... I swear it's never been this bad before. I'm considering a bunch of stuff:

• That drinking coffee tomorrow all day, is the only way I'll be able to function. Despite the fact I've never drank it before (Yep, sorry Pete, there's that stroke/heart attack I've probably just caused)
• That drinking coffee NOW is entirely reasonable. If I could just be bothered to get up
• That bothering to go to sleep now would just be a waste of time
• Besides, I'm hungry
• Really hungry
• And I can't sleep when I'm hungry.
• That the half formed ideas in my head might be good blog posts
• But until they're actual ideas, I'm going with Tori's suggestion and blogging about last Saturday.
  
• I got halfway through that blog before giving up for the night earlier.
  
• That even through the haze of a LOT of drink and the fact that I mainly just remember loads of giggling like an idiot, it turns out I remembered a fair bit about Saturday.
  
• Also, Ducks walk funny.

Anyway. Thanks Prednisolone, for keeping me up past and beyond stupid o'clock, and also making me ridiculously hungry.

Neglecting the blog-o-sphere.

Sorry blog land. I have basically nothing to write.

Seriously, I can't even be bothered to ramble about my fun filled(!) life these days. I need some ideas, or inspiration. I've probably fried my brain trying to think of stuff and it's always crap.

My piss poor memory isn't helping matters though - even if I do think of something, chances are I'll forget by the time I'm near the keyboard. Or I'll actually start writing and then instantly forget.

Heh. Sod's law.

Chance of normality.

I went out last Saturday, and I loved seeing people. A night out that I really needed :)

I actually have a week off college this week. If we're being technical, it's just a day off as it's only Saturdays, but I'll be going out again this Sat for a friend's leaving party. At least I've got that to look forward to rather than a full two weeks doing bugger all.

Anyway.

I finished IVs on Weds. I was thrilled about that b/c I thought I finished on Thurs till I checked the fridge to see how much was left. And there was only one syringe and one bubble left, so, FREEDOM! It's so so so nice to be free of that damn needle after three weeks. Especially as, for the needle change between the third and second week, the needle felt like it was at an angle. What had happened, was that the nurse had obviously tried to avoid putting the needle exactly where the previous one had just been, and it was basically at the very edge of my port. One side of the gripper didn't have any port to rest on, and it felt like it was going to be so easily knocked out (which didn't help Saturday night when people run at you and hug you. It hurt!)

I think the IVs have worked well. I mean, I don't feel like crap all the time anymore, and my cough isn't as harsh sounding as it was.

I'm beyond determined to get back to lasting three months between IVs again. So if I have my way, I won't be needing IVs again till July. Which is after college ends too. (I think. I'm pretty sure we finish in June at some point). I still haven't heard anything from UCAS, it's being such a bitch. I don't have any back up plans and this year is technically a gap year, as whilst I'm technically on a college course, it's not a full time, several days a week course.

I've confused myself. Bottom line is, that I need an answer from UCAS b/c I'm as sick of bitching about it as you are of reading it.