You know, a badman vampire, like Blade. Or Dracula. Or Gangrel. Not the modern day pussy type. You know who I mean.
What can I say about today!? I got my head shaved, my Chemotherapy started and for reasons unknown my mouth has started to fail at articulating the words that my brain tells it to. I would say something that started meaningful but the sentence would slowly descend into a pitiful combo of slurs and mumbles which would eventually end in a semi awkward silence and a confused outlook on myself. What's the deal there? I'm glad I can still type though because otherwise the escapism I enjoy with this blog would be greatly dimininini blu blu meow blerp...
SEE WHAT I DID?
Shaving my head was a big step. I was always going to do it - in a weird way I saw it as an act of defiance. It's like I'm refusing chemo the satisfaction of taking my hair away, and doing it myself would be the perfect 'bring it on' sentiment. Now I'm not so sure, purely because the vain little princess deep down inside is crying into her pillow and contemplating an 'unkempt bastard' personality switch. In other words, I don't like it. Obviously though there will come a time when I will have no choice but to accept it. The important thing to remember here is that losing your hair is not like losing a part of yourself. No matter what changes my body goes through over the months or even years, I'm still coming through as the same person I've always been. Just a bit wiser. Though that's not close to being a certainty.
Speaking of wise, I feel I should introduce one of the aliases I've created for certain characters of my epic tale. Now as I write more and more entries you will come across various people, such as my absolutely wonderful girlfriend Ellise, my brilliant family members and various friends of mine, and they will of course be referred to according to their real names. Now as for the hospital staff, I've decided to give them rather silly aliases - not for any legal reasons, just because I'm bored of their proper names/don't confidently know them enough to refer to them correctly on here. So, my Consultant? Dr. Greybeard. He is neither grey, nor has he a beard, but I just associate grey beards with being wise and true. He's an excellent Consultant, knows his stuff and I fully trust him with spearheading the logistics behind my recovery. Hence I implore you to have a drink on Greybeard next time you go for a pint.
Other than that there's not much else to report. I've just been to the vending machine and it's only gone and eaten my only pound coin. This has made me more angry than anything else in the world right now and I'd hate for my attitude to reflect on what has been a rather encouraging post. All I know is after I get out I'm leading a student style demolition protest on vending machines cause I'm sure the bastards are more devious at stealing your money than god damn fruit machines.
Peace and joy,
Ryan.
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