New Year's Honours

As predicted Milton Keynes was hell on wheels yesterday.

Although we set out after lunch, normally a big mistake at this time of year, we were amazed to find a parking space with ease. The power of the blue badge I suspect as other vehicles were cruising around the car parks like sharks waiting to pounce.

Driving a trike around in such a crowded space turned out to be a lesson in avoidance. I lost count of how many people walked into me and in one case actually fell across me. Fortunately neither of us were hurt and the woman that landed on top of me was extremely apologetic. This is one of the disadvantages of having such a small mobility scooter, you are that much harder to see, however I saw a similar incident involving a conventional sized scooter so I think people are just blind.

We made a beeline to Waterstones as all I really wanted was to use my gift cards up and then dropped into John Lewis, Boots and Lush before heading home. We ended up with bags of books and not much else, which seems to be the norm for us.

This morning we were up early and heading for Luton Airport before eight, no I'm not fleeing the country though I have given it some thought from time to time. We were there to collect Svet who actually arrived fairly late having had a bumpy flight and a nail biting landing due to the high winds that had sprung up overnight. Being early and a Saturday we did the whole journey there and back in just over an hour and it wasn't long before she was settled in the spare room.

This afternoon I've got a choice of doing the ironing, yes more, or going out to replenish supplies for New Year. Personally I'm in favour of going out tomorrow as anything fresh has more chance of making it to Tuesday than if I bought it today. I also think it will be quieter but I could be wrong. I have to go out though as I can't do it on Monday as I'm working.

My cold is still hanging on. I feel quite poorly first thing but everything clears once I'm up and about and by midday, apart from the blasted cough, I'm fine. This is the fifth week and I can't believe I've still got it, what the hell is going on? I'm also tired. I've been staying up later than I normally do as we are watching a lot of films in the evening and then getting up early to prepare food or catch up on small jobs around the house. I've got to start getting back into the normal routine pretty quickly as next week I'm back to my normal work pattern and if I'm going to make it through all four days I need to be rested.

It is one week since I was put on the transplant list and I'm still jumpy when the phone goes at a unexpected time. We had two calls yesterday that made my heart leap but one was a wrong number and the other was someone call Micheal with a very strong Indian accent who kindly rang up to tell me my computer had a problem and he'd fix it for me. Obviously my Apple Mac ruse has expired but after what I had to say to them I bet they wish it hadn't.

I cannot stand these scum who think calling themselves by English names are going to fool people into thinking they are genuine. As I've been bothered by these people for at least a year now I have to wonder why they are still trying this scam. Surely everyone in Britain must know about them by now so their success rate must be going down? Unfortunately I know from experience that there are still trusting souls out there who are stupid enough to hand their bank details over to anyone who asks for them and while people still do that the scammers will continue to phone.

In the news an article by Richard Littlejohn a columnist with the British newspaper the Daily Mail has been causing a bit of a stir.

For those that don't know several children have been killed on our roads this Christmas, most notably two young brothers when the car they were travelling in overturned on the M6. These poor little mites fortunately died instantly along with another family member, two others are still in hospital.

Three days after this horrendous accident Littlejohn chose to have a rant about the length of time police closed roads after such an accident. He wondered why it was necessary to 'close the whole motorway for several hours' and surely 'one lane could have been opened to let traffic past'. Maybe this is a man of very little imagination, I don't know but certainly this is a man without any respect for the dead and their families. When a car crashes so spectacularly on a clear dry day there has to be a reason. Maybe there was something in the road. Maybe there was a fault with the car. Or maybe, just maybe someone high on drink, drugs or just incompetent clipped the car and sent it into it's fatal roll. Without a proper investigation the police will be unable to give the family the answers they so desperately need to understand this tragic event. And to do that the police need time. Everything will need to be photographed from every possible angle. The road will have to be finger tip searched for clues such as headlight glass and neither of these things can be done safely with traffic thundering past just inches from the crash scene.

Then there is the safety of other road users. Does Littlejohn really want to see other accidents being caused by people rubber necking and therefore blocking the motorway even longer?

And finally there is the dignity of the victims. As a motorist I certainly would not like to drive past an accident and see bodies still in the road or in the car. As a mother I would hate the thought of my children's bodies being on display to all and sundry. And just as a human being I think the family of these poor unfortunate children deserve to have as much time as it takes spent looking for answers. OK, people would be late for their Christmas dinners, but they will have their dinner eventually. These poor children will never attend a family dinner again and I think Richard Littlejohn should show a little compassion and stop to think next time he decides to complain about inconvenience. I'm sure if it ever happened to him he would soon change his tune.

The New Year honours list has been announced today and as expected there are a lot of sports men and women represented. Now although I think it is nice to honour the most successful British Olympic team in history do we have to do it my making them knights of the realm etc?

Lets be honest about this. The honours were originally meant for those who do good deeds and don't normally get any recognition for it. This can mean people who do charity work or people who have done something exceptional during their normal working or leisure time. So we are talking soldiers who have shown immense bravery and saved others at risk to themselves, or the man in the street who pulled a child from a burning car or the woman who set up a charity to help disadvantaged kids without any monetary help from anyone. These are the people who should be getting the honours.

Sports people work hard, there is no doubting that but it is selfish work. They 'sacrifice' their relationships, their families and their friendships in pursuit of greatness. Some will say they are doing it for their country but ultimately they are doing it for themselves. This is not to say they are doing anything wrong, it is their choice but surely their reward for all the effort is the gold medal, the cup, the trophy. Do they really need additional honours heaped upon them? Some have become extremely wealthy through their sports, what more do they want?

I also have a problem with celebrities getting honours. Often these are due to their 'charity' work but often it is not. And for those who do get it for charity work you have to question exactly how much they do other than let their name be used and turn up to the odd event if there are enough photographers present. Yes there are some who do an awful lot, take David Walliams, Eddie Izzard and the now disgraced Jimmy Savile, all were or are frequently filmed doing something totally extrodinary in the name of charity. These people get off their bums and do things, and not just for Children In Need or Comic Relief.

And I absolutely hate honours going to politicians or the financiers, if there were a less honourable lot I'd like to see them.

Ohps, sorry, I went off on a mini rant there when all I meant to say was I think honours should go to the people they were meant for, the unrecognised.

Well it's time for me to get back in the kitchen. I'm hopeful of writing a blog tomorrow but just in case I don't I wish you all a very Happy New Year and I hope that those of you who are ill get better in 2013.

My Merry Christmas

Well I have to say working on Christmas Day was actually quite nice.

There were of course very few of us in but we were not overwhelmed and a lot of the calls were just seeking advice so all in all a fairly quiet day. We were treated to bacon sandwiches and as everyone had brought food in there was enough to feed a small army.

Even though I worked my full ten hours for the first time in eighteen months the day passed quickly and I was soon on my way home where I was greeted with a lovely meal of home made meatloaf with barbecue sauce, peas, hash browns and fresh fruit. After getting well and truly stuffed we all sat down and watched the film Love Actually, one of our favourite Christmas time films, with a bottle of wine and tin of Quality Street.. Not everyone's idea of a perfect Christmas but good enough for me.

Laurence arrive late afternoon Boxing Day and I prepared a special tea of cheese board, sausage rolls, pickles, crackers and fruit which we picked at as we caught up, not having seen each other for almost a month. And then we sat down for our first film night in almost a year. We watched The Mask of Zorro, not exactly Christmassy but one of the boys favourites.

Yesterday was our big Christmas Day. We shut our doors to the world and had a belated turkey dinner with all the trimmings and for once I ate the lot and kept it down. I couldn't manage the ice cream but had a bowl later in the day. We exchanged presents and everyone was delighted as we had all managed to get exactly what everyone wanted this year. Usually there are a few naff presents but not this year. We then settled down to watch Prometheus.

In the evening Laurence went to the pub with some school mates and then went home as he has to work again today, such a shame but he will be back on New Years Eve, when he will stay a bit longer.

So today I've got the usual task of stripping the turkey of the rest of it's meat and freezing it for future use. I'm leaving some out though along with some left over stuffing as there is nothing I like more that a turkey and stuffing sandwich. Then I have clean up the spare room and change the sheets in preparation for another visitor. Svet, Andrew's Bulgarian girlfriend, is arriving tomorrow for a week's stay. So this year's New Year's Day lunch will be for five instead of four.

This afternoon we are off out to do a bit of shopping, namely Andrew is going to get an extra present for Svet, and Peter and I will mooch around the sales, not with any intention of buying anything, but just to see what is there.

Talking of sales I was appalled at the pictures of crowds in Selfridges on Boxing Day grabbing anything they could get their hands on. This was not 'need' this was pure 'greed' and the shoppers really didn't care what they ended up with as long as they got something.

Maybe it is me but I've never bought something just because it's a 'bargain'. If it is something I want or need and it is on sale then fair enough. I've never been able to understand the mentality of people who spend the night on the pavement outside a shop just so they can be first through the door. Crazy!

Christmas Strictly Watch

I have to say I wasn't exactly impressed with this year's effort.

Maybe I just wasn't in the mood, I'd made the mistake of watching Eastenders first, or maybe it was just that I'd had my fill of Strictly this year but it just didn't grab me. I also felt the wrong person won, personally I feel the footballer was the best, and you all know how I feel about footballers.

To be honest the TV this Christmas has mostly been pants.

I've enjoyed the re-runs of Morecombe and Wise on BBC2 and have loved some of the Disney films and the Carry On marathon but most of it has been, well dreary.

There is little to look forward to in 2013 either so maybe a trip to Waterson's with my book tokens might be in order. I have a feeling I'll be reading a lot more this year, until Strictly, I'm A Celeb and Appretice starts up again that is.

Well it is omelets all round for lunch as a 'light' meal has been requested after yesterday's blow out and then time to hit the shops. Wish me luck!

Flood!

Well I've still got this damned cough! I'm beginning to wonder whether it will ever go away. Apart from that I'm feeling more like me now, I been out and found I managed quite well and I feel I am now ready to get back to normal, and that means work.

It is going to be strange, I always feel worried about going back after a long time off and feel even worse as it was the run up to Christmas. I know my colleagues will understand, they know I can't help it but it doesn't stop me feeling guilty, especially as the doctor refused to shorten the sick note. On the other hand I did say I was going to take more care of myself now I'm on the list so if the doctor thinks I need the time I'd just better go along with it and do as I'm told.

And so the question about leaving work has risen it's head again. My family and my medical team feel I spend far to much time worrying about work. Ideally they would like to wrap me up in cotton wool and keep me safe until the call comes. However what if the call never comes? What if it doesn't come until a year has passed, two years, what would I do with myself? On the other hand if the call came today it would be nice to be able to go back to work fully fit and finally able to pull my weight. In two weeks the new shift pattern kicks in and I've always said I'd give that a go before making any firm decisions and I'm going to try and stick by that. Although the new pattern gives me less time off between shifts I will be working shorter days. I have no idea if this is going to make me more or less tired until I try it. Decisions, decisions, I just do not know what to do at present.

I've got my prescription refilled yesterday so I am armed to the teeth with antibiotics and steroids in case things take another downward turn. I was worried that my constant infections would mean I might miss my chance if I was ill when suitable lungs came along. Apparently this isn't the case. When they explained why to me it made perfect sense. They would be cutting the infected lungs out and as I'd immediately be put on strong antibiotics any residual infection would be treated. What a ding bat not to think of that, however they will not do it if you are on steroids as they can prevent healing, so from now on steroids will be the very, very last resort.

In the news my heart goes out to those people who are currently battling floods. I watched the news last night in horror as picture after picture showed floods and land slips. And it is still raining. I cannot remember anything like it. Yes there have been floods before, I remember seeing some horrors in recent years but nothing like this. Previous floods have come and gone fairly quickly but this year they just keep coming and coming. As we were threatened with drought conditions earlier in the year the turn around is amazing and sort of proves the old saying 'be careful what you wish for'. I hope that things start to dry out soon and that the families effected can have a good Christmas despite everything nature has thrown at them.

And on that note I want to wish everyone who reads this blog a very Merry Christmas but above all a healthy one. Take care, eat, drink and be merry and look after yourselves and each other.

Fabulous

Oh my goodness! I don't know what came over me but I went to Tesco this morning for some last minute bits and pieces. To be fair I had no trouble parking but once inside it was bedlam.

I had an unfortunate encounter with a Tesco employee before I even got into the store. This woman was leaning against the door frame of the entrance puffing away on a cigarette and blowing smoke over everyone trying to get into the store. As I approached she casually threw her fag end onto the floor, despite standing right next to a bin, when it landed right by my feet. She looked at me as if daring me to say something and then turned and went inside. All Christmas spirit deserted me at this point and I went straight over to customer services to complain. The woman I complained to asked for a description of the offending employee and seemed just as annoyed as I was. Will my complaint get taken seriously? Who knows but I hope it does because I'm pretty sure that is an image Tesco does not want to be known for.

Once home and with the fruit and veg safely stowed I'm in the rather unusual and pleasant position of being ahead of myself as far as preparation is concerned. So this afternoon I'm going to sit down for a couple of hours, nurse a Bailey's and chill out. I got the all clear from the doctor and although I'm still coughing there is no infection left and my oxygen sats have returned to normal so I will be working on Christmas Day.

Although no one wants to work at Christmas I am pleased that no one will have to have their Christmas ruined by being called in to cover me. A lot of my colleagues have young families and I know what a magical time it can be for kiddies. My children are grown men now and Laurence always works Christmas as, being single, he prefers New Year off so he can party with his mates. So our Christmas is being delayed by a couple of days and to be honest no one really minds.

Strictly Watch

Oh my goodness, what a show. I knew as soon as I saw Louis' show dance that he'd got it in the bag. What a lift and how brave was Flavia to allow him to even attempt it.

I was really torn this year. I really did not want Denise to win, she always had an air about he that she was expecting to be the winner from day one. However I really like James and would love him to win one year, just not this year. Vincent is another favourite of mine and yes I would have like to see him lift the glitter ball but unfortunately the show dance was awful, he would have been much better off basing it on what he is really good at and that is Tango. Kimberley has grown on me throughout the series and I really would not have minded her winning, however my favourite from day one has been Louis. Unfortunately Louis is a bit unpredictable and can let the side down when everyone expects to see spectacular, take his jive, such a disappointment. Last night though he was perfect and I bounced up and down on the settee when he won.

There were mutterings about Brucie from some of my friends, saying he was too bossy, got in the way and was generally annoying. Yes he is all those things but he is not half as bad as Tess, who this year decided to turn up dressed as a oven ready chicken. The problem is that Bruce for all his faults is the perfect host for Strictly and despite his age can still ad lib in a crisis and keep things flowing nicely when chaos is reigning all around him.

I can't imagine Strictly without Bruce but we all know that the time will come, whether by his own decision or by natures, but when it does I think Strictly will be poorer without him.

Well time to cook up a storm for lunch, creamy tomato pasta bake today, then a nice little time out before it all starts again.

Vanilla Ice

I'm going to start this blog with a plea for myself and all the other seriously ill people who could be looking at their last Christmas if they do not get a transplant.

Do something amazing this Christmas and give the gift of life. Please join the organ donor list and make sure your relatives know your wishes. Stats show that over 90% of people want to donate but less than 50% do. Out of those only 30% of organs are used because the donor's relatives refused to let donation take place because they did not know if this is what the donor really wanted. Save them the pain and confusion of making a decision at a difficult time and discuss what you want to do now.

To join please use this link  www.organdonation.nhs.uk

At last I am feeling better, I still have a productive cough but it is less each day and I can now hear again. My sense of taste and smell is still intermittent but at least they do seem to be returning. Best of all my appetite has improved again and I'm more or less eating normally so should start to put some weight back on.

Yesterday I had my most active day yet. I cleaned the oven, I nearly gassed myself in the process, and made some absolutely scrummy ice cream. The ice cream was actually the easiest and tastiest recipe I've come across in a long time. If you want to have a go here it is.

300ml full cream milk
300ml double cream
1 vanilla pod or 1 - 2 teaspoon vanilla essence
4 large egg yolks
125gm castor sugar.

Put the milk and the vanilla into a saucepan and bring to the boil, remove from heat and leave for vanilla to infuse. Beat the eggs and sugar until pale and creamy. Remove vanilla pod from milk (if using) split and remove seeds, add seeds to milk. Pour the milk into the sugar and egg mixture and stir well. Return mixture to saucepan and heat slowly stirring constantly until mixture thickens to consistency of double cream. DO NOT LET MIXTURE BOIL. When mixture coats back of spoon remove from heat and allow to cool for 5 minutes. Add double cream and stir well, set aside until completely cool then put into fridge for 1 - 2 hours.

If you have an ice cream machine pour in and mix until stiff then put into a sealed box and freeze for at least 12 hours. if you don't have a machine place in a covered container and freeze for one hour, remove stir well and repeat until mixture is stiff. Then freeze for 12 hours. This makes enough for four people on it's own or six if served with fruit or cake.

If you want to make a ripple mix in some flavoured sauce during the last mixing or for other varieties add choc chips, crushed nuts or soft fruit.

I'm going to have mine as it is with a drizzle of Baileys over it.

Andrew got the Christmas tree and decorations down form the loft and I finally felt that little bit festive.

Today I'm catching up on all the jobs that are routine and mundane and won't get done for at least another week and that means finally tackling the Eiger of ironing. Thankfully there are a few good films on this afternoon so I won't be bored. Andrew is going to do the decorating, as I can't leap around on ladders etc and by the time Peter arrives home the house should look lovely and he'll have some shirts to wear.

Junior Apprentice Watch

I've just about caught up on this and am so, so please the dreadful Maria didn't win.

The task this week was to come up with a whole new brand of sports wear. While Maria insisted she and Patrick focused on one sport Ashleigh and Lucy went 'street'. Right from the start it became clear that Maria was a team of one while Ashleigh and Lucy worked really well together and inevitably won the task. Maria was unrepentant and still seems oblivious to how she bullies everyone. Patrick was more laid back and just shrugged defeat off. Out of the two victors I had no doubt Ashleigh would be the winner. She was mature beyond her years and knew about money, a subject close to Lord Sugar's heart. A very good result.

In the news I've been following the plight of seven year old Neon Roberts very closely. This little boy had a brain tumour which was removed but further treatment was needed. This treatment was radiotherapy and was deemed necessary to stop the cancer returning and spreading to other areas. A straightforward case with straightforward treatment proven to work so why is he in the news.

Well this is because his hippy dingbat of a mother kidnapped him to stop him having the radiotherapy. Her argument was that the possible side effects of the treatment were too severe and she didn't want him to run the risk. Of course she totally ignored the inevitability of a regrowth of the tumour which would lead to death if untreated. Now we all know that treatments have side effects, some very unpleasant, but what mother wouldn't want to give her child every chance in the world? OK he may lose a few IQ points, he may suffer impairment of some degree but he'd be alive wouldn't he?

Now let me just say I'm not totally against alternative medicine. Used alongside conventional treatments it can have very positive effects but I would always turn to the tried and test methods before anything I'd looked up on Google. However the mother wanted to try everything BUT the tried and tested method, while the father wanted to go down the conventional route, they are separated, what a surprise. The squabble ended up in court during which time a test showed that Neon's cancer had indeed returned and he needed further surgery, guess what, dingbat refused to let him have it so in the end the court ordered the surgery which Neon underwent without any ill effects. Now the court has ordered that Neon have the radiotherapy and that he stay with his father for the duration of his treatment. Thank God for common sense.

His mother is still not happy and is now threatening to sue just about everyone involved. She is of course entitled to her opinions but I have to wonder if she even stopped to think about the effect all this is having on the child she professes to be trying to protect. Neon is old enough to understand what is going on, he is also in the awkward position of trying to please both mum and dad, a hard enough task for any child let alone one that is ill. Most parents, no matter how strained the relationship, will put on a united front when faced with a seriously sick child but not so this mother. She seems to be enjoying the notoriety while we have heard very little form dad except through lawyers. So is her battle really because she has the best interests of her child in mind or is it a way of making dad look uncaring. If so I think we can all agree her tactic has badly misfired.

Strictly final tonight, I cannot tell you how excited I am but first I must answer the call of the Eiger.

The End Of The World And The Beginning Of A New Adventure

Well today was supposed to be the end of the world but for me it is the beginning of a new life. Yes almost a year to the day after my initial referal I have finally made it onto the transplant list and it is as though the whole world has been lifted off my family's shoulders.

We got up at the unearthly time of 0630 as we had to be at Papworth by nine to meet Mr Dunning the surgeon in charge of saying 'yea' or 'nay' and we really didn't want to be late. Although it is only a forty minute drive from my house to the hospital the journey was taking place during a dark, wet, rush hour and involved travelling the A6 and the A1, both notorious for rush hour accidents.

The journey was unremarkable though we hardly spoke. I'd had a sleepless night and so with the remnants of my infection still clinging on I wasn't at my best. Try as I might I just couldn't be positive and by the time we arrived I'd convinced myself it was going to be bad news and talked myself into the old 'well I'm no worse off' way of thinking. The hospital was in chaos when we arrived as the diagnostic center had flooded so we had to paddle to the transplant clinic which was packed with patients from the other department. Luckily the transplant clinic was operating normally though the lung functions, x rays and ECG's were being conducted elsewhere in the hospital as the rooms used for them were out of action. I gave my name at the desk, was offered a mince pie and sat down to wait.

I was surprised to find a really pleasant man waiting for me. I always envisaged surgeons as being rather haughty and aloof and, well, self important but this man was anything but, he greeted us like old friends and then got quickly down to business. He'd 'researched' me and his findings had been a 'bit of an eye opener'. This worried me, what had they found and did it mean no transplant. Unbeknown to me he had painstakingly searched for details of my previous surgery and unlike loads of others found them. The operation way back in 1965 was complicated and has left considerable scaring. My heart sank, this must mean that whatever they did would most certainly make transplant impossible so I was astonished when he went on to say that he'd be delighted to perform the transplant for me. I was so surprised I squealed.

Back down to earth and the facts were laid out. Transplanting just lungs is going to be difficult, not impossible but difficult.  The previous surgery has caused scaring and lesions in just the wrong places, not much but enough to cause heavy bleeding if not dealt with properly. My aorta and pulmonary artery have also thinned so again this could cause heavy bleeding, etc, etc, to cut a long story short I'm going to be 'challenging'. The final decision is this, I am to be listed for both heart/lung and bilateral lung transplant. He would much prefer the heart/lung option but if a good pair of lungs come my way he isn't going to turn them down. I'm not going to have a 'clam shell' incision, he is going in through the sternum whichever op I have because while he is in there he is going to strengthen my  bits and pieces.

My chances are very good. My underlying fitness, all that swimming, weightlifting and pounding the pavements have come into their own, is as good as anyone could hope for so I should recover quickly. That along with my 'very' positive attitude makes me an ideal candidate apparently, and with that I was presented with the consent forms. We were then shuffled out into the waiting room to wait to see the transplant co-ordinator and get the 'do and don't' talk and sign yet more paperwork. In one hour I'd gone from feeling 'what's the point' to wanting to jump up and down screaming.

The rest of the morning was a blur but I got the main points...

Keep yourself as fit as possible.
Keep your weight steady, try and put some on if you can but certainly do not lose more.
Ring once a month to let us know of any changes.
Ring us if you are poorly
Ring us if you are going away
Ring us when you get back
When the call comes DO NOT DRIVE YOURSELF, we will send a car for you.
Keep a small bag of essentials by the front door that you can grab as you leave.
Make sure you can be contacted at all times.

When we finally got out of the hospital I jumped up and down shrieking like a toddler on Christmas morning. I just could not believe my luck. Good things just don't happen to me, certainly they haven't this year so I felt that I deserved to be excited.

We stopped off at a pub on the way home and I tucked into baked Camembert, one of my favourites, steak, chips and parsnip puree, all washed down with fruit juice. I couldn't manage a sweet but as soon as we got home I poured myself a small glass of Baileys as a very special treat. Then it was let everyone know time. I have to say the reaction from my family, friends and colleagues has been awesome. All have been so happy for me, some commenting that they thought I deserved it, which was nice.

And so now the real waiting begins. In one of my early posts this year I stated that I felt that 2012 was going to be my year. Well I was wrong in that statement. It has been, for the most part, absolute hell. I've lost a lot of friends this year, good people who stood by me in the early years and never turned their back on me no matter how hard I tried to push them away. I have gained new friends and have come perilously close to loosing one a couple of weeks ago. Sita is fighting but is still very poorly and my hope is that she is well enough to see her children at Christmas. Emotionally I've been on top of the world and down in the depths of despair and every emotion in between. There have been times when I thought I couldn't do it anymore, when I've been so close to cracking it would have been easier just to step over the line than fight back. Physically I've continued my downward path, admittedly more slowly than in previous years, but still this illness marches on, slowly sucking the life out of me and there is nothing worse than watching yourself deteriorate. Even professionally the path has been full of potholes and I've hit every single one, some more than once and as a result there will be things I can never fully repair.

However despite everything that has been thrown at me, the infections, cancer scares, rejections, false hopes and disappointments I'm still here and so in that respect and that respect alone I suppose it has been my year. Now I have a future to look forward to, something to aim for and although I know it could be a long wait and there will be a few disasters along the way may be, at last and for once, things might just be turning my way.

And now back on planet earth I have an oven that needs cleaning and ice cream to make.

At Arms Length

Well I can't say it hasn't been an interesting twenty four hours.

I set off yesterday after lunch to go and have my blood checked and an x ray. I really didn't want to go, I didn't feel well enough and I was paranoid that, in my weakened state, I'd catch something else. However huddled into the furthest corner of the waiting room I found a unique and extremely effective way of getting people to keep their distance. Every time I started to cough I cleared a good few meters around me in all directions. As soon as people began to creep back I'd start again and 'bingo' clear seats all around. I must have used a gallon of alcohol gel and kept my mouth and nose covered so I'm fairly confident that I've escaped unscathed.

Back out in the fresh air I realised I actually felt better than I had in days and the crisp cold air worked wonders on my nose leaving me clear if not fully functional. I still barely have any sense of smell though my taste and hearing have improved a lot. The plan was for Peter to return me home and then go and pick Andrew up from university but I felt so well I decided to tag along for the ride. Peter wasn't keen but once he'd extracted all sorts of promises to 'stay in the car' and let him and Andrew do all the fetching and carrying he agreed and I had a lovely trip out along the motorway. It was exactly a fortnight since I'd left the house and I think I'd got a sort of 'I'm not well' mind set going on because instead of feeling worse, which I was convinced I would, I felt better for the change of air and scenery.

I did as I was told and stayed glued to my seat while suitcases and bin bags were loaded into the boot and then we were off home loaded down with, what looked like, a whole terms washing. Andrew made it back before we did and had already raided the fridge by the time we'd pulled up in the drive. He sorted out his washing and I put the first of several loads on to wash before making some tea and sandwiches.

After an evening of listening to Andrew's experiences during his placement, including his norovirus patient, I went to bed happy in the knowledge that he'd survived his first term and was now safe and well back under my roof.

It was four o'clock when he started. Every mother in the world is familiar with the sudden thump as they hit the floor and the thunder of feet along the corridor that ends with the bathroom door being flung open and the inevitable sound of vomiting. This was my wake up call and it went on, and on , and on, and on, until by eight he was fast asleep and I was lying awake rigid with fear that I'd just brought norovirus into the house. While he slept I washed the entire bathroom down in neat bleach and then showered so that anything I might have brushed against whilst cleaning was washed away. My clothing and towels went into the wash and the downstairs bathroom and kitchen also got the deep clean treatment.

When he woke up he announced he felt a lot better but Peter wasn't convinced and decided it would be best if I spent as little time in contact as possible so I was ordered to dress and we went out. Luckily I feel better again today, I still have my cough but I can now breathe through my nose and occasionally get the odd whiff of perfume or strong food smell such as coffee or garlic.

We went to the shopping center, where I was abandoned for the best part of an hour while Peter went off to do something secret. So I whizzed around on my trike and bought myself a little smelly treat, I don't know why, I can't smell the stuff, but I'm assured by the girl in the shop it is just lovely. I then bought myself a coffee and parked up to drink it and do some people watching. I have to say I was surprised at how few people there were. Some of the shops were actually empty so my people watching wasn't as successful as it could be. Though I did notice at least three people in onesees and ugg boots and all were old enough to know better.

We then hit Tesco, which was also far from busy, and, much to my delight got all my Christmas shopping done. All I have to get nearer the day is the turkey, some fresh fruit and veg and cream. Our Christmas is going to be two days behind everyone else as Laurence and I are working Christmas day itself so there is no rush. So I supposed with every cloud etc...

When we got home we found Andrew dressed and halfway through a piece of toast. On seeing this I immediately ruled out norovirus and after a little chat have now put the cause down to the 'bits and pieces' he ate yesterday rather than throwing things away. This included a dodgy week old yogurt and some olives he's had lurking in the fridge since the beginning of term. I'm not relaxing my strict hygiene regime yet but I don't think we've got anything more serious than food poisoning going on.

Tomorrow I'm off to Papworth, hopefully to get the final go ahead for transplant and to sign the consent forms. All the tests and biopsies have come back clear and provided they have everything in writing the only possible fly in the ointment can be the surgeon, whom I'm meeting tomorrow. I had a letter from Papworth saying that so far they have 'found no contra-indications to transplant but she will be high risk due to her previous surgery and enlarged Pulmonary artery. However if the surgeon thinks it is feasible then we will list her for transplantation at the earliest opportunity.' So although they initially said 'yes' now we are back to 'maybe' because of my previous surgical history. I'm sure they've transplanted more difficult cases than me, they must have. I just hope they think I'm worth the risk.

Well time to check in on my boy and offer more liquid, then a nice cuppa and a sit down before I start fretting about tomorrow again.