Today:

This whole blog thing is all very new to me (apart from some compulsory blogging at uni to pass my Illustration degree in 2011), so while I'm feeling inspired, I shall continue to write, but moreover, as I saw something on Facebook today that said 'Write until you surprise yourself ', I definitely will keep popping these posts out until that happens!

Today, I woke up to receive a handful of letters; but as you can see, it's a sad state of affairs when the only mail one (I) receive(s) is from the hospital and Barnet council requiring money. Today I have been sent three new appointments ranging from Diabetes to Neurology and dating from this Friday all the way through to September. This is one reason why I need a very sturdy mid-year diary. Not because I am now qualified to work in a school- but because of all my upcoming medical appointments!

My fan mail...not so much

This week I only have 2 appointments at the hospital- so this is considered a quiet week. Next week however is a very different story. I have one hell of a bitch of a week appointment wise. Tuesday to be precise. Tuesday the fucking 4th July- 

I literally will be spending the day at the Royal Free- so if you fancy a coffee, you'll either find me on the third floor or in the M&S coffee shop on the ground floor by the pharmacy.  Next Tuesday seemed so far away when the appointments got scheduled and now it's only next Tuesday. I have the Low Clearance Nurse, the Renal Consultant (who is amazing), the Renal Psychologist (a required must-have, 'voluntarily' opt-in required 'service' for all those having a transplant) and the Transplant Coordinator. Anyone around for a drink in the evening to celebrate surviving? It's the psychologist I can't bear. He's a nice chap. A bit bland to be honest and also totally useless. I sit in his appointments almost looking forward to the next one. At least I know the next one will be slightly beneficial or informative at the least. I thought the psychologist would be there to offer advice and strategies (like CBT) for when things get too much or when I have a break down about the current situation or about the lack of healthy genes I have inherited or when I get faced with another hospital admission- but NO. He sits there and asks me where I see myself in 5 years time?  ERRR, HELLO MR. PSYCHOLOGIST. To be alive might be a good fucking start. I can't really plan to move to the USA and adopt 3 horses and 2 dogs and launch a global illustration company and foster 4 children if I don't have working kidneys. G-d damn idiot. Seriously, did he really need a degree to ask me that. 

Today I am excited at the prospect of this new writing phase I appear to be in. For those of you that don't know me, you tend to see me with a black pen and a bunch of Washi tapes rather than a biro and notepad. Anyway, while I'm enjoying it, I'll keep at it. The issue is maintaining it and hoping that you all enjoy the content on the 78th post as much as you did on the first.

While I moan about all my appointments, I just want to take the time to pay tribute to my BEYOND AMAZING TEAM of doctors. I have no words to express my complete admiration, respect and gratitude to them all at the RFH- from my Diabetic nurses Jill, Hellena and Sharon to Dr Woolfson, Dr Rosenthal and Dr Negus.  I'm a broken mess with them all, so goodness knows where I'd be without them! My team of doctors are just beyond brilliant and no amount of praise, money, gifts or bottles of wine will ever demonstrate my feelings towards them. I know a lot of people criticise the NHS, but seriously, the NHS has saved my life on more than one occasion.

So, today I think has been a good day. I have seen three close friends for three separate cups of coffee; I am excited that this new found hobby may lead me to the morning couch of Piers Morgon (one day), and apart from the kidneys making me tired nearly the whole fucking time, I actually feel quite positive. At this precise moment anyway. 

NB: Side note: Why is the plural of Kidney 'Kidneys' and not 'Kidnies'? Just a thought...