katiefinger.com

… and I spend my days trying not to do it.  Most of the time I do quite well, but today isn’t one of those days.  I was going to begin Block 2 of my OU course, but birthday presents, the shower and a need to bake a tuna and cottage cheese quiche all presented themselves as something to do instead. 

Of course, by birthday presents I mean my spankingly brand new, and very fandangly, laptop.  Yummy.  I love it to pieces, not least because it means that my Internet addiction is something I can now ‘fix’ whilst spending time with The Blokey.  It’s not pink because “I can think of better upgrades for £30″ apparently.  But it is groovy, and a Dell, and quite tippy-toppy of the range.  I have fairy lights to go with it (thank you Baby Brother); now I just need a swish bag.   Oh, and it would be quite helpful if I could get used to the smallness of the keyboard and the lack of mouse (I find it amazingly difficult to live without a mouse; my fingers just don’t like it!)  It would also help if I could retrieve emails from Outlook Express on it too, but passwords seem to have been forgotten and when they are remembered everything goes all screwy-gooey.  Tsk.  I shan’t be getting rid of the desktop PC for a while though; I need it for its ridiculously high amount of memory.

My birthday (Friday) was lovely, despite not seeing The Blokey till about ten thirty in the evening.  There was vodka, wine, Mexican food (but oi, Chiquito! I thought you served Woo-Woos?) and laughter.  The Baby Brother turned me into Judy and the letterbox got fixed (not magically). 

But all has not been totally fine and dandy in the katieF household. 

We’re in the process of cancelling our holiday.  I had already had to give up going to Australia this summer (we’re hoping they bring us oodles of goodies to make up for it), and now I have to give up a luxurious log cabin (with hot tub, jacuzzi and stunning views) in Yorkshire.  All I’m going to say on the matter is that the dialysis coordinator at the big hospital in maC is a TOSSER.  And the consultants aren’t much better … The Blokey has (obviously) been getting stressed about the fact that nobody seems to tell him anything.  What was supposed to be temporary suddenly took on longer term implications when he received a letter through the post telling him he needed assessment to have a fistula (permanent thingy) fitted on his arm.  Cue very long and ratty letter to the consultants, which actually worked because at his next dialysis session the consultant came down and spoke to him.  He doesn’t actually need a fistula yet; his levels just aren’t progressing as much as they would like which I imagine simply means that he will probably end up on it permanently eventually.

Anyone have a spare kidney?

It’s very hard to see the person that you love learn to cope with something that will probably have lifetime implications.  He’s so young, and if they can’t miraculously fix this problem then we’ll be living with dialysis for ever.  I say we because it does affect both of us, and I say for ever because there’s no guarantee with regards to a transplant. 

I need to start accepting that it’s not just him who is affected.  It is affecting me and it will continue to do so, but I think I’m usually quite good at hiding this.  I managed to throw a teenage strop on Monday evening, but after slamming the bedroom door and bawling my eyes out on the bed I was able to put things into perspective and put on a jolly face.  I am very good at distancing myself from events that affect me.  I’ve been bottling up feelings since childhood and I know how to ‘behave’ in certain situations.  I don’t think that’s a Good Thing.  In fact, I know it’s not a Good Thing, but it works as a survival mechanism. 

Ack.  We’ll see how things pan out .

On the upside I only have two working days until my six weeks holiday, and four days till we go to the cinema to gasp at the continuing adventures of Harry Potter … Huzzah!