All does not appear to be well in the Mercedes camp. After dominating the race, the Spanish Grand Prix was won by Lewis Hamilton. Unlike previous GP's instead of coming over and slapping his team mate on the back Rosberg just stalked off and the conversation in the holding area was stilted to say the very least. Hamilton, it seems, is very good at getting peoples backs up.
Why am I starting with the Grand Prix today, well it was about the only (semi) exciting thing that happened all day.
I woke up, read the papers etc, etc, etc and wondered when the weather would stop pretending to be November and act more like May. Honestly I was so cold I ended up huddled on the settee in one of Peter's enormous fleeces.
I had hoped to regale you with tales of gardening or going out to walk (scooter) around parks and alongside river banks, I had hoped to have used my camera outside at least once by now. It always happens to me. I take a week or so off and suddenly winter returns. It's all very well the weather people telling me next week is going to be better. I'm going to be back at work by then and sitting in a sweltering room trying not to faint.
Instead all I did yesterday was watch TV, drink endless cups of tea and roam the internet looking for somewhere to visit. I'm now thinking forget anywhere with nice gardens, look for something indoors with efficient heating.
However it was drug prep day and this time it went off a lot more smoothly. I'm getting used to things now and managed to knock a whole five minutes off the time this week. I do like it when a plan comes together. It still feels strange not to be sitting down and doing this every night as I used to and I can't believe I actually moaned afterwards at how long it had taken, but I did. How quickly we forget! Two weeks in and I cannot imagine ever going back to the old system but I'm already complaining about the new one. Guess I won't really be content until I've got rid of the pump for ever and there is only one way that is going to happen.
The fresh flush of renewed hope has faded as quickly as it arrived. That's the trouble with this transplant business. When you are first put on the list you are absolutely convinced you'll be all done and dusted in a couple of months, six at most. Part of this is the fault of the nursing staff who say stupid things like 'I'll make you an appointment for three months time but I fully expect to see you before then'. And in my case the hope was elevated by working alongside someone who got their transplant after being on the list for only three months. Of course they point out to you that you may be in for a very long wait and also that there is a slim chance you will never get a transplant but human nature and that wretched thing called 'hope' brushes those warnings aside. You just know it's going to happen and it's going to happen soon.
So after becoming very despondent, and knowing your condition is worsened, when the top consultant comes along and says you have now become urgent, and they are taking some of the barriers away, you are suddenly filled with renewed hope and excitement. However reality has taught a painful lesson and hope fades very quickly and you stop jumping when the phone goes and no longer fret if you are in an area without a phone signal. You actually manage to convince yourself that it is not going to happen, ever. For me this makes life more bearable and allows me to get on with enjoying the things I can do without constant disappointment.
Gosh, sorry! I got a bit maudlin there, must be the weather.
Today I am going to wrap up warm and do a trawl of the local charity shops. I'm not exactly short of books but I have several series on the go that need the next in line before I can read the ones I already have. It may not be a country house and it may not be exciting but it gets me out of the house for a while. If I'm feeling flush I might even treat us both to a Costa coffee.
It seems my picture recipes are going down well so I may do that again sometime. I must say it was fun doing it too, even though Andrew moaned that I was taking too longer to serve up because I was 'messing around with your camera'. Tisk! No one appreciates an artist.
I woke up, read the papers etc, etc, etc and wondered when the weather would stop pretending to be November and act more like May. Honestly I was so cold I ended up huddled on the settee in one of Peter's enormous fleeces.
I had hoped to regale you with tales of gardening or going out to walk (scooter) around parks and alongside river banks, I had hoped to have used my camera outside at least once by now. It always happens to me. I take a week or so off and suddenly winter returns. It's all very well the weather people telling me next week is going to be better. I'm going to be back at work by then and sitting in a sweltering room trying not to faint.
Instead all I did yesterday was watch TV, drink endless cups of tea and roam the internet looking for somewhere to visit. I'm now thinking forget anywhere with nice gardens, look for something indoors with efficient heating.
The fresh flush of renewed hope has faded as quickly as it arrived. That's the trouble with this transplant business. When you are first put on the list you are absolutely convinced you'll be all done and dusted in a couple of months, six at most. Part of this is the fault of the nursing staff who say stupid things like 'I'll make you an appointment for three months time but I fully expect to see you before then'. And in my case the hope was elevated by working alongside someone who got their transplant after being on the list for only three months. Of course they point out to you that you may be in for a very long wait and also that there is a slim chance you will never get a transplant but human nature and that wretched thing called 'hope' brushes those warnings aside. You just know it's going to happen and it's going to happen soon.
Gosh, sorry! I got a bit maudlin there, must be the weather.
Today I am going to wrap up warm and do a trawl of the local charity shops. I'm not exactly short of books but I have several series on the go that need the next in line before I can read the ones I already have. It may not be a country house and it may not be exciting but it gets me out of the house for a while. If I'm feeling flush I might even treat us both to a Costa coffee.
It seems my picture recipes are going down well so I may do that again sometime. I must say it was fun doing it too, even though Andrew moaned that I was taking too longer to serve up because I was 'messing around with your camera'. Tisk! No one appreciates an artist.
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