Royal Free Hospital adventure – pretty good really

My run up and down the corridor was a triumph beating my previous record. I have perfected a sort of swimmers turn that has paid dividends adding several crucial centimeters to my six minute walking test. Boy what an athlete!

I am going to have to endure more treatment soon as amyloids and the myeloma are getting shirty again – but all my vital bits are surprising normal and the consultant was very keen to stress things are looking good but they need to keep on top of the disease while things are looking good and not let things get worse and start knocking out organs like coconuts at a shy with a good cricketer (can’t think of a name just now – laboured joke – ah -Truman, Botham, Lilly, Thompson. WG.Grace). So we may be back to the discussion about the autograft versus more drugs but it’s just a matter of wait and see what transpires in the ‘multidisciplinary team meetings.’

So relief as ever all round.

Instead of going posh Maria and I ate at the hotel. I felt a looser cos I am a snob and believe that if you are going to be ill and spend the day surrounded by others ills you should defy your purse and eat at great expense at our usual place frequented by Hugh Grant and slightly grumpy italian waiters… but i just needed stodge and i got it!!! – steak and kidney pudding, chips, pees and eton mess for afters, Maria had lamb burger  and persuaded the kind polish waitress to give us the meal deal I had so violently declined – it being demeaning and a touch common and desperate – loosers we may have felt, but fat, billous and contented we retired to bed with Stephen Poliakov, moderate wind and incomprehension. Life is so sweet with pudding.

Can’t be bothered to write any more just now as knackered from so much lying down and sitting up.

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