Monday, January 19, 2009

Another Aspect

Amongst other things, I'm an accomplished belly dancer. I don't have a certificate that proves that, but it's true. I've never applied for any jobs as a belly dancer, and really, I don't know why. But I'm a bendy person- my arms bend too far, if I weren't so against gymnastics, I'd be able to do the crab with ease, but alas at nearly 5"4, I'm a bit of a bean pole to people in that world.

So anyway, back to the belly dancing. I can belly dance at the drop of a hat, except on rare occasions such as today, where the only thing it looks like I'll be dropping is a baby. **Let's make it perfectly clear I'm not planning on dropping a baby, but I wouldn't look out of place shopping in Mothercare judging my appearance**

It's shocking really. And it's uncomfortable. The only way to describe it is if you ate a massive lunch which gets no further than your stomach. You're still hungry for food at dinner but your head tells you that there's nowhere for meal two to go. But you have to eat! So you do.

I knocked back some anti-acid, some creon (for digestion) and some motillium (to speed up the bloatiness). My baby look has decreased somewhat, but I reckon I'd still get (a) dirty looks from older ladies and/or (b) a seat offered to me on the bus.

These problems are very common to people with CF, I'm just (thankfully) not much of a 'digestion' girl so this is a bit of a rare occurrence. I'm actually not allowed see my CF team anymore, which seems a bit hard to believe- I still have CF right? Digestive issues related to CF aren't the speciality of a lung transplant team after all. As it happens, I actually went and saw my old CF team last year anyway, slightly behind the backs of my transplant team (who said i shouldn't go - hi to any of my transplant team who may be reading this by the way- now you know how I know that my vitamin levels good enough that I don't need to take vitamins ;-) ), but it frustrates me that I have to do it in such a way.

I may point out that I'm very fond of the transplant clinic staff who look after me and who always accommodate me whenever I ring up and feel like giving them riddles to solve, but whether it's a control thing, politics or frustrates me that teams can't all sing off the same hymn sheet.