So How Was Your Christmas?
Or the over-consumerised wankfest as I prefer to call it. Mine was as predictably shit as you would expect Christmas on Chemo to be. Usually when I throw up on Christmas Day it's due to having consumed excessive amounts of alcohol on Christmas Eve. This year I just did it anyway so as not to feel left out.
I did manage two halves of lager over the festive period (not in succession you understand, who do you think I am Georgie Best, no on two separate occassions), but couldn't manage to finish either I am so lightweight these days.
Christmas Dinner? Well, I decided to plump for a nice bag of the same stuff I've been "eating" for the last 365 days, straight into the stomach, cutting out the middle man. And totally undelicious it was too, even with the aroma of the real thing whafting in from the kitchen.
New Year was a quiet affair, until the in-laws came round and decided to recreate the opening scenes from Saving Private Ryan in the kitchen by giving Knocker a biscuit nano-seconds before Chummy. Well that was it, I was bitten on the thumb trying to break the buggers up (the dogs not the in-laws) and ended up in A&E.
All of this, and the fact that my white and red blood cell count is low (well it would be wouldn't it given the shite-in-a-bag that they are forcing me to eat?) culminated in me having to have two blood transfusions, a thumb that's bandaged up so it's 3 times it's normal size (not before they scrubbed it out with iodine and a toothbrush) and I'm still being sick!
Who said 2017 could only get better?
I did manage two halves of lager over the festive period (not in succession you understand, who do you think I am Georgie Best, no on two separate occassions), but couldn't manage to finish either I am so lightweight these days.
Christmas Dinner? Well, I decided to plump for a nice bag of the same stuff I've been "eating" for the last 365 days, straight into the stomach, cutting out the middle man. And totally undelicious it was too, even with the aroma of the real thing whafting in from the kitchen.
New Year was a quiet affair, until the in-laws came round and decided to recreate the opening scenes from Saving Private Ryan in the kitchen by giving Knocker a biscuit nano-seconds before Chummy. Well that was it, I was bitten on the thumb trying to break the buggers up (the dogs not the in-laws) and ended up in A&E.
All of this, and the fact that my white and red blood cell count is low (well it would be wouldn't it given the shite-in-a-bag that they are forcing me to eat?) culminated in me having to have two blood transfusions, a thumb that's bandaged up so it's 3 times it's normal size (not before they scrubbed it out with iodine and a toothbrush) and I'm still being sick!
Who said 2017 could only get better?
