T + 21. I do not Stink like a Piss Soaked Pole Cat

12/03/2013


Hb:    9.9   (-0.4)
Wbc: 1.69 (+0.68)
Plt:    49    (-15)
Ntl:    1.14 (+0.22)


Weight: 77.9kg

Well I got the news today that the guys here are giving serious consideration to releasing me back into the wild sometime around next Monday. It's quite late in the day now so I'm a bit knacked, but last night gave me the best sleep so far - a good solid 7-7.5 hours, sorry to bore the arse off you, but I'm writing this for me after all and I want to remember just how important the little things were in here, like getting sufficient sleep, the lovely feeling of cleanliness after a shower and the timely delivery of painkillers.

Bit of an improvement on the last pic eh?

I have developed a new approach to showering. Prior to being admitted to KCH I was never much one for them - not to say that I reeked like a piss soaked pole cat, it's more that vegging in the bath with a magazine, preferably a Mojo or Shindig! for a good old soak was more my idea of 40 minutes of  life well conducted.

No baths in here, so I've shifted one of the folding plastic chairs in there and angled the shower head to 90 degrees and will happily spend 30-40 minutes in there, head down just moving my it around letting the water cascade all over me - you can get into a kind of trance and let yourself go, I have to force myself to get out sometimes because I really could spend an hour in there  - no problem.

For the queue people, this is lovely and intensely relaxing and I cannot recommend it enough - even on my worst days this has helped bring me relief and peace for up to and hour and a half after getting out. You may well be prescribed a shitload of creams to apply to GvHD rash (or MMPRv for those of you in the know). I've got a steroid one to apply thinly all over, a separate one for my face, a moisturizer to go over the top of the lot and one for my poor old scrote (bad news there by the way, the swelling's gone down - I was prouder than a gardener with a prize winning marrow for a while there). Back to my point, when you're all super slinky and chilled after a nice long spritz it's an ideal opportunity to get all of the lubing business out of the way which otherwise really, is quite greasy and a bit of a pain in the bum.

As you might imagine, this business involves a fair bit of sitting around waiting, I get wheeled all over the place to be given different scans and X-rays - so I've learnt to make my own entertainment.
I was sent down for a CT scan (me neither) today and cast my eye around the waiting area and saw a 'Mission Statement' proudly emblazoned across the top of a notice board.

Now I remember these becoming fashionable about 10-12 years ago under the last Government and  local authorities wasted countless hours in meetings coming up with something that abided by the Management Bullshit guidelines to create a snappy strap line that encapsulated 'in a meaningful way' what your area of the 'business' delivered to 'the stakeholder' in a manner that was 'diverse' , 'accessible' and 'inclusive'. I'm sorry I need a minute here, the memory of all this has triggered my gag reflex.

That's better, now because these things ended up being written effectively by a committee they were very often a bit of a dogs dinner by the time they were done and, in most instances were very definitely not strap lines. So the dust bin men might find their bin lorries might end up emblazoned with;

'London Borough of Phones, Loans and Chicken Bones Refuse and Recycling Department'

 

Our Mission is;

 

The Timely, Sutainable Removal, Disposal and/or Recycling for

The Diverse and Differently - Abled Stakeholders of Household Waste
and Recyclables within the Borough'

 

 

Which is all very laudable sorry I mean sickening, but hardly trips off the tongue eh?

 

The one I spotted today was the antithesis of everything I've written above, but in its way just as bad - here we go.

 

 

'WORKING TOWARDS EXCELLENCE'

 

 

 

What does 'Working towards...' even mean? 'Well we're at average so let's work towards hum-drum' Take a minute and read it again. Now I'm no lover of this brand of bullshit, but even I can see it's half-arsed. It might just as well read 'Hitchiking to Rochdale' or 'Pissing on Nettles'. If you do have to turn out this shite at least make it any good. One should Strive for excellence, quest for it, fight for it with your last breath - make one last fated grasp for it as your life blood spills from the bullet wound in your upper left arm anything but work towards it.

 

Some bright eyed MBA straight out of Uni was probably given this as his (or her) first assignment, when skip in step, fringe a flopping and whistling a little tune of first-job happiness he (or she) came up against the committee. They never stood a chance...