The 30th of July.
I hate dealing with incompetent people.
This morning I blogged, very boring. I had a phone call from Jo, the BMT co-ordinator, saying she’d put in a request for me to have my line out on 621, and shortly after hanging up, someone from there rang me offering me a time which I agreed to without looking at the diary. However, when I went to put it in, I realised it was the exact same time as my appointment with the kidney man. I rang back and spoke to someone who didn’t know who I was and claimed they didn’t do this procedure on the ward. I disputed this, saying they clearly do, as I had literally just been speaking to someone who’d offered me a time for it which actually wasn’t convenient. But the numpty didn’t know what to do, so I rang Jo back and told her what had happened, and then I had another call offering me an hour earlier, which I didn’t think will work as I’ll need to lie flat afterwards. They’re waiting to hear from another doctor, and I’m going to ring back in the morning. Igor would have sorted this.
After dealing with all that, I went and worked off some stress in the gym. Leg press is still out of order, but I got to do everything else. The smiley boy appeared and thought he’d squeeze a spot in the mirror, and at one point picked up a bar near my head, putting his face about a foot away from my face. It was somewhat surprising.
Raccoon legs tonight.
The 31st of July.
Today is seven years since my second stem cell transplant. They came from a German fellow who was just eighteen, and he was found in the nick of time. One potential donor had been unable to donate on the day he was needed, and we were all set to use Daddy. If we had, the cancer would almost definitely have come back and I’d be dead right now. Even though his cells got kicked out by the liver donor, we shared DNA, and without him, I wouldn’t have had to have my liver transplant or the stem cell miracle that came with it. The GvHD might have nearly killed me, but the treatment made me cancer-free for good. He’s a hero.
This morning I sat around waiting for nurses to come and flush my line, but when it got to lunchtime and no one had showed up, we decided to eat and go out. They didn’t come while we were out either so obviously they suck. We had to go and pick up a duvet cover and take back a dress, then went to Pandora to get my German flag heart charm, and I got a Brownie Bomb from Selfridges to celebrate my marrowversary.
I’ve made two legs of Jessie, and we’re no further on in getting my line out. Going to ring up on Monday and prod them some more.
One day seven years ago that changed everything. He doesn’t even know.