I am changing the URL of my blog. (The thing you put up in the address bar). From Monday 23rd, it will be:www.youknowyourone.blogspot.com.

Today I am off to a place I now hold dear to my heart. Well to a place which is NEAR to a place I hold dear to my heart.

Badminton calls, and though I am not really that good at holding a racket let alone hit a shuttlecock, I have been allowed to represent my country in the sport.

The event is for people who have had transplants (Did I ever tell you I had a transplant??) and there are 7 of us travelling over. It seems incredible that only 9 months ago I could have only dreamt of doing something like it.

I have also started jogging. Jennáy in the office is making me feel very guilty because she walks every lunchtime. My lunchtime is an opportunity to leave my computer and seat and find another seat beside a TV and eat my lunch. I'm far too lazy to do exercise. At lunch.

That's why I started jogging, every second night. I have surprised myself at how far I can go without tiring, and have set myself mini goals which I hope to achieve. That way, come June, I shall face the Women's Mini Marathon (10k) without guilt of lack of training. I just wish that pesky Jennáy wasn't so diligent. Puts me to shame!

(A reminder that there are two new blog posts below this one. I had to play catch up!).

PS: EILEEN, you owe me a nice good luck message in my guest-book! Make it nice now! I'll be reading...

"Sick Waiting"

Yesterday a group of us met up outside the Dáil and launched the Cystic Fibrosis Association's "Sick Waiting" campaign, because we are SICK WAITING (Geddit, geddit??!!) for facilities. I know I mentioned it two days ago but there's no law against repeating oneself. Although friends of mine may campaign to bring one in...After the photo, I went inside the Dáil as I was rather thirsty.

Anyway, we took a few photos and one appeared in yesterday's Irish Times. I look rather dramatic in it, or melodramatic (I should look that word up) but it's OK. A little while ago, we decided that I had ridden this 'Wow, I've had a transplant' horse a little too long, and that the media needed new faces. I don't exactly know where that logic went (somewhere out the window me thinks) but I'm still hanging around. Like a bad smell. My retirement is in sight. (Note to any post transplant people, please volunteer!)

As a result of the coverage of the event, the story and campaign was picked up and I went on a Cork Radio Station this morning talking to a lovely and informed gentleman called Dave Young. It went well, and I was glad that not too many people I know (if any) heard me. Except Grace and KM in the office. And another colleague Sz walked right in mid speech and was promptly told to 'Shusssshhhhhhhhhhhhh', so I guess he knew too.

At the Launch of Organ Donation week.

(Martin Cahill, Godfrey Fletcher (both CFAI) and me)

Yes, I know it's not a photo of "Sick Waiting" launch, but I don't know of I ever mentioned this before, I'm RATHER unorganised. Be grateful you got this much!

Apologies...

1. OK, I KNOW I said I'd have photos but a combination of laziness (I prefer lack of organisation) and...em....lack of organisation means I haven't got them up yet.

2. The "big day" I was talking about was the removal of my feeding tube (Mikey). I took feeds every single night (with exception of sleep-overs) since I was two years old. The first two-three years involved a nose tube down every night and up every morning. And NO it wasn't as dramatic as last week's fiasco, because my Mum is very skilled at doing them. I was one of the first patients in Ireland (and the first in Crumlin Hospital) to switch from a 'peg' tube to a Mic-key Button tube. That totals 17, nearly 18 years of tube feeding.

3. The links to the pictures of the "Peg" tube and the Mic-key are not ones of me. ESPECIALLY not the Peg Tube one. Goodness knows I don't have quite the hairy stomach. Steroids aren't that bad!

4. Photo of MY mickey:

Today was a big day. A day, I really thought I would never see. I got pictures, but because my Internet has been down all day, I shall post them tomorrow.

In other news: The Cystic Fibrosis Association launched the 'Sick Waiting' campaign. The general idea is to try and get better facilities for those living with CF. I say 'better', but really facilities of any type would make us happy. Sharing a room with 3 other people with CF who also have chest infections is dangerous. Thank goodness I'm shot of that place now!

Today I was supposed to go and have bloods in the Mater but I slept in. Ooops! My friend 'Harry' was going in to have her G.I. studies done today (the same ones I had done last week) and she got her tube down in one go. Don't you just hate nerds?? AND she got to take her tummy tube out! Again, what a goodie-goodie two shoes!!

Saying that though, I was delighted to hear her good reports all the same! 'Harry' had her transplant a mere 9 days before me and I got to see her the night before my transplant when I was over in Newcastle.

Today was another spectacular day weather wise. It wasn't boiling hot but still stunning. My sugars went a bit all over the place today and I had one or two hypos. I need to start vigorous recording tomorrow as I have my diabetes appointment next week and it would be stupid to turn up unprepared, IE, with nothing to show them. I only get to see them every 6months or so, so I need to make the most out of my visits there.

I went for a cycle today which was really nice. My mum brought the dog along too. She walked him that is, not put him on the bicycle (I don't think his little paws would reach the pedals anyway!..haha, the image of my dog cycling is now imprinted in my mind). Mum took the bike for a while, but my dog got HIGHLY concerned and insisted we follow after her and MATCH HER SPEED! This required me to run with the dog, which felt great, but I was rather breathless afterwards. I hope that's just a sign of my lack of fitness. After transplant you tend to get a bit paranoid at things like this and even at 10months out, I still find it hard to distinguish from 'genuine' breathlessness and 'infection/rejection/flu' breathlessness. All part of learning I suppose...

I am changing the URL of my blog. (The thing you put up in the address bar). From Monday 23rd, it will be:

www.youknowyourone.blogspot.com

Just warning you, because when it changes, the 'fatfrogess' will no longer be valid and will bring you to a weird archive place that you don't want to visit. No sir-eee!

Today I, having lost my beautiful sunglasses on Thursday went shopping. I was devastated at the loss of the perfectly fit, really snazzy glasses and needed a new pair. I also lost my eyeliner so REALLY need the glasses to cover my eyes up at times.

I walked into Dunne's Stores and saw some OK-ish glasses there. They cost €8 (£5.50). I dithered about buying them. I to-ood and fro-ed. I went back and forth. I tried them on, I put them back, I tried them on, I put them back. I inspected my purse for evidence of funds and saw some there. I looked out at the sun, at all the cool people with their cool shades. My old glasses were long gone, now was my chance. Moving on, onwards and upwards. It had been three days since my old pair had grown legs and ran away, I had searched my house top to bottom. They were not coming back to me.

I gave in and bought a pair. I wore them home. I showed them off to whoever would look at me and felt really cool. My Mum wasn't home but I bathed in the sun for a while with EILEEN and chatted.

Then my Mum came in. "MUMMMMAH!" I exclaimed "Check out da new shades" I cried! (I adopted a Brooklyn down-town accent for a brief moment you see). I pointed to the new 'bling' as a rapper would do. I gave a big grin and felt reaaaaaaal coool.

"Oh that's nice" She replied. "I found your old ones by the way - they were on your chair in your room".

ONE for the parents!

OK, OK, I know I said no more depressing-ish type posts, which this isn't. But it IS about CF, so look away now! This one is more for the parents of lil ones with CF or PWCF themselves.

Every year the Cystic Fibrosis Association of Ireland holds their annual conference. This year it was held in Galway and last night while browsing I came across the links to their broadcasts (which are of particular interest to Parents Of LWCF in my opinion and worth a look!). Click Here For the Links

Rosie Barnes of CF Trust (UK CF association) spoke about the UK gene therapy programme.

Dr. Lee from Leeds talked about 'Ways to reach adulthood without chronic Pseudomonas aeruginosa'.

There was a brief talk (brief because I skipped it) on Nutrition and I think on CF Emerging complications of medical treatment (diabetes etc). In fact, you can view them all by just going to the link. I'm too lazy to type.

The conference was chaired by 'my very own' former Consultant, Dr Gallagher who looked after me pre-transplant. It was his opening speech that struck me when he said something (along the lines of):

"....in the early eighties, when most of the patients were in their early twenties or before that, and there were very few older then that. And those people who were 18 to 20 were almost always in hospital, all the time with a very poor outlook..."

When I heard that, I thought, 'Gosh, how awful'. And then it hit me. I WAS one of those 18-20 year olds, all the time in hospital, with a poor outlook. I never stopped to consider it. I was one of them. The revelation (which was staring me in the face for years I might add) came as a bit of a shock. I just never really thought of myself like that.

Anyway, I suggest you take a small peek at the links if you're interested. The first clip doesn't show video for a few seconds, and the great thing is, you can fast-forward the boring parts. And let's admit it, anything with the word 'conference' in it, is bound to be boring.

And in case you don't bother listening, something nice was: "..We now have a situation in Ireland, where half of the Cystic Fibrosis population are adults....I can think of no occupation, vocation in Ireland that does not have one person with CF in it and that will change more. So there is HUGE hope for the future."

The LINK again: HERE!!

Friday the thirteenth!!

Thank you to all those who sympathised with me on the awful event of the Nose Tube. I think I was a BIT dramatic as there are plenty of people who do these things all the time without complaint. But nonetheless I was upset and it was lovely to get such lovely comments. (Heads up to Jenny and The Country Singer!!)

*Gulp*.. *Gulp*... *Gag*.. *Cold Sweat*.. *Gulp*...*Cold S.... Oh never mind!

Well thankfully nothing majorly bad happened me today. Yet. Gulp!
I woke up and ate half a packet of refreshers and then remembered that I should have clicked 'event' on my PH studies monitor before doing such a thing. Nevermind. I didn't lose much sleep over that.

I returned to the Lady-who-does-these-things today and had the infernal thing removed. That bit only took a second and wasn't that bad at all. I think the fact that I knew it was coming out made me glad. Again, with the 'not letting me help at all', she insisted that SHE took my plasters off. I said 'Well no, I always do these things'. She then told me that it was sometimes easier if other people did these things, because 'one whip and its gone'. I think my eyes popped out of their sockets at that, I certainly do NOT like things being 'whipped off', no no! Slow and steady and MY way works best!

I've the day off work tomorrow which is fantastic. Since I shall not be working I shall go out and about and do something interesting. What with the lovely weather I feel I should take it all in while I can!

Things I learned.

For today's "interesting" appointment, see my red-book blog

1. I have very small holes in the back of my nose.

2. I don't tolerate nose tubes very well.

3. I am a "very, VERY brave girl" (Better then a brave BOY I suppose - see yesterdays blog)

4. Private hospitals have funky carpets, funky plastic plants, funky music but NO alcohol gel to sterilise hands with.

It's only lunch time so that's all I have learned thus far today.

Eileen gave out to me because apparently my blogs of late have been 'too morbid' and irrelevant. Some people have no appreciation for things. Anyway as such, I shall take a break from such 'depressing' posts.

Nothing much is happening here these days. Oh except that time today when the phone rang and it rang and rang and then I ran to answer it and I answered it and they said:

"Hi is that Mr FitzGerald?"

What the?? MR FitzGerald?! I told him no, that this was his daughter and hung up.

Tomorrow is THE big day when my feeding tube is coming out. I know I said it was coming out months ago, but things happen and things change so I have an official appointment tomorrow. I then have to have a long tube put down my nose and into my stomach (which is gross I know) to test the PH and acidity of my stomach. The two events are unrelated.

And FINALLY, today is my Father's birthday. I won't say how old he is, because I actually don't know. I stopped caring when I stopped making him birthday cards and needed to know the number. I should get him something for his birthday. I want to get something different.

Socks, Tie, Book and Book voucher it is so! Sweets are off the list because he's a diabetic. He just couldn't stand me having the limelight and had to join the diabetes club too.

I'm THAT sick??

When reading today's blog post, one should have a little background information on the hospital I attended. I transferred to Adults and attended St. Vincents hospital from Christmas 2005. In Dublin you have a choice of two hospitals, each with their pros and cons. I was quite honestly dreading going to Vincents. Gone would be being treated like royalty (like in the Children's) and having my own room. That was the big thing, from now on I would be in a 6 bedded bay. Gone would be my own TV, my own privacy and comforts. It would certainly be different. There is no dedicated CF unit in Vincent's Hospital, and most often people with Cystic Fibrosis end up sharing rooms with other people with Cystic Fibrosis. There are only two single rooms which are reserved for the sickest of the sick. On my first stay there, one of them had a girl who nearly died.

I had spent the Easter weekend in bed. I had had a bath to freshen up and realised after needing to up my oxygen to walk to the bathroom that something really wasn't right. At the time, I didn't want to go to A+E as I thought none of my doctors would be there, I wouldn't get a bed so was happy to stay at home. I was just holding out for Tuesday morning when I could get some help.

My mum rang up the CF nurse first thing Tuesday morning. Usually I play down how sick I am, like when someone asks me how I am I will tell the facts but round it off with a 'But I'm fine/I feel OK/I'm better then this morning'. That Tuesday I shouted after my Mum and told her to tell them exactly how I was. I really couldn't face another day spent in bed. I needed help.

I was a little surprised when my Mum came back and told me they would have a bed that afternoon. Getting a bed in Vincent's the day you request it is very unusual/unheard of, unless you go through A+E.

That afternoon I watched on as my Mum packed some sort of bag for me. I sat perched on the bed wagging my finger at various items I thought I may need. We got the portable oxygen ready and I set off for the hospital.

On arrival on the ward, I was shown to my room. I got a shock as it was literally MY room. The physiotherapist came down to see me, and as nicely as she could, told me I could have called over the weekend. She then told me to lie back as sitting up was too much effort. After she left, I turned to my Mum and whispered "Am I really this sick?" The notion scared me a little but soon after I located the remote control for the FLAT SCREEN TV and got lost in some TV programme.

With my temperature continuing to spike most days, and my oxygen requirements remaining the same, I worried that I might never come off the oxygen. And while I would have gladly stayed on it if it made me feel well, I was determined that I could work and wean myself off.

One week into my stay, I attempted to walk slowly to the bathroom without the crutch of oxygen. I made it. And I made it back. Hours later I was cursing myself as it was decided I was no longer sick enough for the single room and was transferred to the six-bed bay. Who greeted me there? Three other people with Cystic Fibrosis. Charming.

I felt relief that I could see light at the end of the tunnel. I wasn't better by any means but I wasn't on the oxygen all day. That day I had a nap and when I awoke a nurse came into me. Her words were:

"Oh you're awake." (She was very observational that one) "Newcastle called. They told me to let me know that they're pretty quiet at the moment but they're thinking of you."

How nice, I thought. They're thinking of me. I took that to mean when someone comes up and says sympathetically 'Oh I'm thinking of you'. I didn't realise until three weeks later that they actually meant 'We Are Thinking Of YOU!'

Stable...Unstable...Stable...Unstable

We went up to Gile's Quay today and had a lovely time with an assortment of relations whom I see too rarely. I went out and sailed around the pier with my younger cousins and Mum's cousin. All in all, a fabulous day!

Easter 2006

I had been waiting on the transplant list for about three months. The first two had been spent on pretty much full time IVs, with one infection rolling into the next. Despite this, I felt OK, I was still getting time at home and still only needing to sleep with oxygen. I was breathless and coughing up my lungs most days, but the body adapts to these things. I think because I have no memory of complaining at the time, I look back and think I was OK.

Easter 2006 was probably the turning point. I had helped my phsyiotherapist with educating students and she had given me a beautiful Easter egg to say thanks. It was a magnificent egg, wrapped up in a big orange and cream bow, and although I knew I would only have to sniff it and I'd be full, I looked forward to taking it carefully apart.

I began to feel unwell the week of Easter, but what I was coughing out of my lungs was a good colour (no real indication of infection) so I thought I might have just been a bit tired. The day before Easter, I stayed in bed. I attempted to come down to the kitchen, but being off the oxygen was purely exhausting. I was concentrating on not getting out of breath just sitting in the chair. If you can imagine having run down the road and then having to speak to someone, you suppress your breathlessness to get the words out, well that's what it was like the whole time. My mum suggested I went back to bed and lay with the oxygen on for a while. I have only ever spent the day in bed (at home) on a handful of occasions, and this was one of them. I had no dinner and just watched TV. Once or twice I ventured as far as the bathroom but that became too tiring too. I ran temperatures and got sick. The whole time my Easter egg with the big orange and cream bow sat on my bookshelf begging to be opened. My brothers and sisters ate my other eggs while coming in to spend time with me.

What I couldn't understand though, was what was wrong. I had been feeling OK-ish that week, I had no indications of infection other then the tiredness and temperatures. Looking back, this was what they meant when they said 'you have severe CF, and it's unstable'. I was brought into hospital and ended up spending 10days on 4litres of oxygen, 24hours a day. 6 of those were spent in bed....

To be continued....

I MUST insist you click the Google Video up above. It's a clip from youtube that I call "The Grape Lady". It is simply hilarious! You *must* have sound on, and the first 40secs or so are rather boring. But wait, it IS worth it!!

1. I got up and went downstairs
2. I injected myself with 14units of insulin (enough for a three course meal)
3. I then went and looked at my Easter eggs
4. I then realised I should have done step three at step two.
5. I got four Cadbury's Cream Eggs, a tub of Pringles and a net of little sweets.
6. Not enough for 14 units of insulin me thinks.
7. I did not complain
8. *Correction, I tried not to complain
9. I sat in the sun and ate my food
10. I definitely did not complain as it was delicious!!
11. Had dinner
12. Argued with sister
13. Repeat step 12 four times
14. Went to bed.

What a world away from last year's bed-ridden, oxygen dependant Easter of which I shall blog tomorrow. Or the next day. I'm going to the seaside tomorrow.

The steady decline...

March 2005

It was a Friday, and a Friday we had off school - something about a teacher training day. I had been looking forward to this day off school all week and welcomed the lie-in it would bring. My mum told me that I would have a dental appointment that morning but I would have to walk down myself due to the fact that she was working. I didn't really mind as it was only down into the village which was down hill all the way.

That week I could feel a chest infection coming on, but had actually had three months without any antibiotics, so didn't really mind. We had been to NY and I had been well enough to enjoy that so it was a small price to pay. I figured I would call the hospital up the following week.

And then came Friday.

I woke up at about 8.30, and figured I would get up at 10-ish to leave time for a shower. A short time later I got up and proceeded to get sick in the bathroom- something that wasn't incredibly unusual as I did it about once a week anyway, but my whole face felt puffy. I was coughing and coughing. I felt cold and shivery but then too hot when I got under the bed clothes of my mum and dad's bed. By 10.45 I wasn't up or dressed and simply dreading my 11 o'clock appointment. I was breathless just lying in the bed and felt all clogged up everywhere.

But I did get up and did get dressed and walked down to the dentist. I was in no mood for small conversation and wanted to be anywhere but there. I didn't know what I wanted, or where exactly I wanted to be; I was just sick. Looking back I probably had a temperature anyway.

I remember struggling back up the hill afterwards, eyes half shut. It felt as though I was running but at the same time, home didn't seem any closer. I spotted two girls from my year walking down the hill on the other side and I just kept my head down. I was just sick.

I don't remember when I ended up in the hospital but I remember parts of the stay. My temperature rose up to 39.7C and I ran two or three a day. I slept all day and night. Without oxygen, my sats (the amount of o2 in my fingers) fell down to 70%. I wasn't allowed to go to the bath by myself 'just in case'. One night I even had some minor 'arrest' type thing, where my o2 had fallen off and my sats dropped to 56%. I awoke up to two doctors and a very worried nurse looking at me. A student nurse then stayed with me while the nurses did their morning report. I wasn't eating, I wasn't even living- I was just lying in the bed existing. I was just sick.

I did get better however, and shortly afterwards was referred for my transplant assessment, where I was told I was too well. But after that, things had changed. I had had my first bad infection, and was well aware of what damage could be done. After that, I pretty much stopped eating altogether. Before hand I had picked at food, after that for the MAJORITY of the time, I didn't bother. I went on feeds 2-3 times a day. I was well again, but things had changed.

When I look back now, I credit this time to what I see as my steady decline. I hoped I would pick up, and at times I certainly did- after all I wasn't even bad enough for a transplant then, but I was sick. And not getting a whole lot better.

Wow the weather was super-fantastic today. After transplant, sunbathing is NOT advised, simply because with a low immune system, you are more prone to skin cancer. At the time of my transplant, I vowed never to sit in the sun again. Well that was fine, as we heading into winter, but my goodness now that Mr. Sun has said hello again it is rather tempting!

I finished up work today, which was good. I have appointments all next week, so will take the week off. I'm also having my feeding tube removed on Thursday, so depending on how that goes, I may need more time off. I had better ring my boss about that come to think of it...

This morning we went out and picked my car. Actually we picked two, but my Dad isn't happy about getting me two cars, which I think is a very reasonable request. We have to wait for the insurance to come through next week. In the mean time my job is to pick between the two cars. I'm really bad at making descions however. I think.

It would appear a LOT of people either watch Neighbours or The Simpson's, as a scary number of people saw me yesterday on my little 3minute interview. It all went well, except that I told the nation I needed a liver transplant rather then a lung transplant. People might be thinking I'm getting greedy! I managed to correct myself and apart from that it went well. Aidan was SO sound and showed us around the studio (teeeeeeny tiny). It's the same one that was used for 'Zig and Zag' years ago, so has had a host of big names pass through.

In make-up Brian Dobson who reads the news was beside us. That was weird because he (obviously) sounds exactly as he does on TV so it sounded like the news was on in the background.

After filming we drove around RTÉ and found the set of 'Fair City' which was predictably hilarious! We then spotted some of the actors driving about. One of them even saw me point at her and say 'Oh look, it's your one, Suzanne!!'. That was slightly embarrassing. Never mind.

The weirdest thing though, was in the canteen when a guy saw the three of us, did a double take at me, and then nodded, smiled and said hello. I didn't have a clue who he was, and perhaps with all my make-up he thought I was 'someone', but it was weird thinking he may know me and me not know him. Krazy Kat!

Aidan Power:
I must have been confused - I think THIS is organ donation week...or else it runs for two weeks? You'd think I would know, but have I ever mentioned how disorganised I am?

Anyway, if you ever watch Neighbours or Home&Away on RTÉ2, in between those, there's a bit of presenting that goes on. They do about 4minute slots and you hear what's coming up next and occasionly they have guests in doing various things. Tonight, I'm going to be one of those guests for...you guessed it (OK pretend you did!)...organ donation week. Thankfully it's only a three minute slot where I tell him what my situation was, why I needed a trasnplant and how my life has been since.

EILEEN and my WHOLE FAMILY are telling me to get a plug in for the table quiz, but I'd feel so embarrassed!! I'll try my best but it doesn't look too bright! I mean I don't want to 'doorstep' the whole TV thing. (Doorstep kind of means you take something or someone and then get them to talk about something YOU want)

Now is it just me, or does Aidan Power look REALLY like Dermot O'Leary??

For someone as unorganised as myself with regard to ANYTHING beginning with LIFE, the fact that I have organised an event in under 24hours is nothing short of a miracle! A MIRACLE!

Myself and EILEEN got our thinking caps on last night and spent this evening scouring venues. We ended up in McGowan's of Churchtown (the place where I am always asked for ID INCLUDING tonight - funny story that, I'll tell you tomorrow)

The guy is highly sound and really friendly. So keeping it short and sweet the details are:

A Table Quiz

Where: Mc Gowan's Churctown (obviously
When: Tuesday, April 24th
Cost: Tables of four cost €40.00
For what:Cystic Fibrosis and the Mater Hospital (lung transplant unit

It should be a good night's entertainment! Well, I hope so anyway! Should any of you who I know who 'live around' are reading this and I haven't contacted, please contact me by leaving a guestbook entry, leaving me a bebo comment or calling me. Thanks! xx

Nurses on Steee-rike!

How inconvenient is that?? Typically I (thankfully) have had no need to contact my clinic whatsoever in the last few months, but due to a clash of appointments, and one or two which I don't want to attend, I had to call up the clinic today.

All patients with Cystic Fibrosis need to have the PH in their stomach tested (see if it's acidic or something), as per Dr. E's request. It seems like a rather invasive procedure and not one I really welcome with open arms. I actually thought this letter was sent to me by accident as I'm due to have my feeding tube removed that week as well. Anyway, in order to manage all four appointments that week I called them up to sort it out.

Thanks to the informative Spin 103.8 radio show though, I discovered that 'answering phones' is something the nurses aren't doing at the moment. Fan-freaking-tastic.

Also, my dad has pinched, stolen, knicked, thieved, burgled my room and TAKEN my old phone. Granted it is the nokia 3210, which doesn't vibrate, is a bit heavy, and I did buy it in 1999 so thus of little to NO use to me at all, but *still*. Anyway he told me if I could find it I could have it back, but of course I'd never find it. Well hawk-dam, I only walked into his room earlier and saw it there charging by the wall. I don't think he'd make a very good thief despite his constant attempts to!!

Sign Lanuage People

Why is it that you only ever see those people doing the sign language over programmes at 3 o'clock in the morning?? It makes no sense! Do broadcasters think that the deaf community only live during the night? That when the rest of the world goes to bed, the deaf get up and run around, cause havoc, go about their business and WATCH TV while everyone else is asleep??...OK well maybe not 'causing havoc' as such...

I think not.

Anyway, just something I noticed and noted.

I did all of nothing today. I have my appointment for my dermatologist for two weeks time. I'm hoping to be put on Roaccutane for my acne like skin problem. This stuff dries out the base skin level, thus clearing pores and getting rid of the bad skin. As such, it dries out everything like hair, lips and all your skin. It's quite an extreme measure to go to in my opinion, but I'm done trying everything else. In the mean time I'm using a wash/scrub thing which also dries the skin. I'm also not wearing any make-up which is so embarrassing for me, because I wear it everyday. I guess it's something I'll get used to though as the results shall be worth it in the end.