19 May 2011

And now for something completely different

Well now, what with the abundance of c**t of the week contenders that needed recording we haven't had time to discuss anything else on the blog these past three days so let's put that right now shall we.

Wednesday was annual review at the big house. This of course is a day we don't look forward. It is quite possible with extensive naps and a pig headed refusal to stare facts in the face to ignore the deteriorating nature of CF on a day to day basis.

However, the annual appointment presents one with irrefutable evidence that the previous 12 months have not been kind. In real terms I am old now. Officially. They don't even really give me the results of my various tests anymore, they just sort of tilt their heads to one side, smile, and ask me if I'd like a biscuit. Change the subject much?

In practical terms the upshot of today was a recommendation that I always carry O2 around with me which will of course require a bit of an adjustment as I'm reluctant to walk about with tubing coming out of my face. The Borg might be OK with it, but I'm a little more self-conscious.

I know society has moved on from Victorian circus freak shows, but for a while at least this is how I will feel about wearing O2 nasal specs about town. In my head I envision people stopping and pointing at me and little children crying and hiding behind their parents and policeman asking me whether "sir might be more comfortable only coming out at night."

I hear a burly cockney type addressing a fascinated crowd of onlookers inside a circus tent, "BEHOLD...tube face man" as he pulls back a red velvet curtain to reveal me sat in my lounge wear eating a sammich and watching Smallville to gasps and cries of BY CHRIST IT'S NOT HUMAN. A lady screaming, another fainting. Someone vomiting and urchins running screaming from the tent.

I'm kind of hoping the reality is less exaggerated.

What of course we have to avoid now is becoming a recluse. If we stay in because venturing out is too taxing physically and too uncomfortable our condition will only deteriorate further thus requiring more oxygen and more lounge wear. A viscous circle if you will.

I clearly have to man up and cease being such a whining nancy boy. With this in mind I will tomorrow venture forth to Nottingham for the DTD Grand-Prix 3 to seek my fortune. This for non-poker playing readers is a seven day £50 freeze-out poker tournament which is hoped will break the European record for the most runners in a single event.

I believe they're aiming for 1,600 runners. Five day 1's and day 2 and the final day over the weekend. By my calculations I should have thousands of pounds in £50 notes in my possession by about 2am Monday morning.

With my newly acquired riches I plan to hire a nurse to take good care of me. Preferably one who plays the harp and is liberal enough to wear the house uniform in the winter, which to be fair makes the Rio cocktail waitress outfit in Vegas look like a Burkha.

An artists impression of the uniform of the house yesterday

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