Poor diary. There, there.
I am ignoring and abusing you. Sorry, poor ickle diary. I've been really busy, trying to scrape in money to pay for a house I'm never in because I'm too busy running around Southampton like a blue-arsed fly. I've had two more bloody parking fines and had to apply for housing benefit because the council and the tax man are taking all my money. And, I am having a bit of a health scare really. I went for a CT scan for the migraines, and then my doctor sent me a letter saying,
'While it all looks generally absolutely fine there is one slight region where it looks like you might have a very small cyst. These are relatively common things to find and it has probably been there your whole life without causing you any problems. It is probably completely unrelated to the symptoms you have been having.'
So I had to go back for an MRI on Tuesday, which was lots of fun; got to have a dye injected in my arm but still didn't see a picture of my brain. Damnit! Just waiting again now, for the results. I'm not too bothered about it. Kind of blank about the whole thing. I think I might be eating my feelings, though. I haven't stopped stuffing my face since the first scan. Stupid fat is stupid back with a stupid vengeance, and I'm more annoyed about that than the wrong shiz apparently kicking off in my brain.
In more exciting news - the dancing show is in two weeks, and I'm in the opening tap number so I have GOT to shift this extra weight. Bum wobbles! We have been making loads of costumes and stuff. SO MUCH FUNS.
'While it all looks generally absolutely fine there is one slight region where it looks like you might have a very small cyst. These are relatively common things to find and it has probably been there your whole life without causing you any problems. It is probably completely unrelated to the symptoms you have been having.'
So I had to go back for an MRI on Tuesday, which was lots of fun; got to have a dye injected in my arm but still didn't see a picture of my brain. Damnit! Just waiting again now, for the results. I'm not too bothered about it. Kind of blank about the whole thing. I think I might be eating my feelings, though. I haven't stopped stuffing my face since the first scan. Stupid fat is stupid back with a stupid vengeance, and I'm more annoyed about that than the wrong shiz apparently kicking off in my brain.
In more exciting news - the dancing show is in two weeks, and I'm in the opening tap number so I have GOT to shift this extra weight. Bum wobbles! We have been making loads of costumes and stuff. SO MUCH FUNS.