It’s not like I wasn’t warned that weeks stuck in a wee room could hammer you mentally as well as physically.
I can hardly say that the consultants and other experts – including those who’d been through it before – didn’t stress just how hellish the stem cell return was likely to be.
And I’d be wrong to beat myself up into believing I didn’t listen, that I was so blasé I thought I’d be comfortably in and out in 3 weeks with barley an issue.
But now, as I start to clamber of of the big black hole of horribleness I’ve been in for past fortnight, these are thoughts rushing through my mind.
I thought you were deserving of an update. You’ve kept messaging me such brilliant words of support and encouragement and have had back from me, well, nada. Zilch.
I’m not going to say much more tonight than I’ve had my new stem cells for 10 days and there’s signs today they are finally grafting.
I no longer feel like I’m swallowing broken glass every time I drink (I’m still not on solid food yet…).
I will give a retrospective set of updates in coming week, which will include:
- Morphine induced dreams including my support to the Royal Family’s health needs.
- My new found love and hate for ice lollies.
- Shaving my moustache with finger nails.
- Getting my balanced meal in once A2 sized bag
- Cleaners who come in and say how awful it is to be stuck in at the same time as reminding you what smashing weather we’re having.
- Living a week (almost) not even looking at Facebook. It can be done.
- Experiencing an unimaginable nightmare that Hibs actually won the Cup and Rangers actually signed Joey Barton.
- And much, much more.
But for new, sorry for switching you all off for past two weeks and I hope you’ll welcome me back with same love and support as before.