Last night myself and a few of the Ladeees from work (well 'ex-work' -the place I was fired from) went to dinner. It was Thai. It was nice. It filled me up which was the main priority at the end of the day.

I then discovered that the building above the restaurant (and the one next door to where I used to work) is owned by a group that you wouldn't be surprised to read about in The DaVinci Code. How freaky. I'm sure they're harmless freaks at the end of the day, but their secrecy and mysterious ways are so intriguing. I'd love to join but I'm not male. Or 21. I haven't been invited either. I think I'll picket outside. That or start up my OWN club. For females. And we'll picket outside. Then they'll be annoyed....and jealous...

I can't believe such a group existed right under my very nosey nose for so long, and I never knew! I'm disgusted with myself!

Now this is for ALL the 'Apprentice' fans out there. This fella is the guy who I mentioned weeks ago, who looks FREAKISHLY like a guy I worked with. I actually have my suspicions that the guy in my office took part in the Apprentice without telling us, and having missed the secret society next door neighbours for so long, I am determined not let this one pass me by! I am NOT joking, this photo could have been taken in my building (except we don't have fancy hole-punchers like he has in the background). If a certain 'WD' is reading, PLEASE go look at his site!!!


"Let's work till we bleed" Yeah, well that's nice and all, but I can't agree. I'm just too darn lazy! Andy !!


WE LOVE YOU ANDY! I reckon SurAllen didn't give some of the 'goodies' a fair chance. How can you judge someone so quickly? *cry*

Kelso: You rock my size five socks. Krazy Kat!!

Oh what a BIG BOTHER!! Yes, yet another series of that freak show marks the beginning of summer. Of course I won't be watching it, which means I probably will be. I used to love the routine of it, as when I was spending days and weeks surrounded by the monotony of hospital life, it was actually something to look forward to in the evenings.

St Vincent's Hospital where I was looked after pre-transplant doesn't actually have Channel 4 though, so I found it hard to keep up with what was going on, until I went over to England and I watched it most nights in my room. I'm finding it weird that I'll soon be celebrating my first 'birthday', I'm so relieved and as grateful as ever, but I'm still finding myself in moments of disbelief. I seem to be having a quick minute every other day or so this week where I feel like crying - Heck I was emotional when Jadine got fired on last week's Apprentice!! How odd is that??

I think the fact that my lung functions have gone up to 96%(!!!) I'm slowly losing the self doubt that by the next time they'll have fallen and I will be taken in for antibiotics. It's like it's a different world this side of transplant. I've spent years and years going in and doing my lung function tests, knowing they'd be the same or expecting them to be lower. Even yesterday, I thought that they'd be down.

Thankfully, I've been so well I only need reviewing and testing every two-three months so it seems to be the days leading up to these appointments where the confidence seems to fall slightly. Other then that, I am out and about, running for the bus, and just enjoying life. And it must be said, I love it.

Transplant Clinic today! You can read about it in my Med-Book-Red-Book-Blog.


Since I have rambled sufficently today updating on the health front of things, I have little muscle left in my fingers to type much else. (Lazy? No, no. DEF not!)



I was harshly reminded today that the SIX-MILE "mini'' (huh!) marathon is about five days from now. I should really have worked a bit on my training. Hmmmm.

I did a day's work in the pharmacy today, just to fill in for somebody. It was the same, usual, quiet kind of day. The time passed a bit faster then usual I felt as I took two meals in the day (one at 12pm and one at 3pm) so it wasn't so bad.

I cleaned and dusted the shelves and tidied them up a bit. Our pharmacy is extremely small; you could probably walk from one end to the other in three big steps. Yes, it's that small. And no, I don't have gigantic feet.

After doing what I considered to be a good (satisfactory at least) job at shelf rearranging, I began to have second thoughts.

We have security cameras in the back which allow you to view the front of shop, have a nosey at what people are looking at, have a gawk at them to see if you know them (and possibly avoid them if you are feeling tired) and generally just stare at. A lady came in this morning with a little toddler who she placed on the floor as she came up to the counter. The little girl had a nosey around the shop and then stopped and started playing with something. It looked like colourful building blocks on a camera, so I figured they were hers. It didn't occur to me that I never saw the little girl carry the blocks into the shop. It was when the mother was leaving and I heard her laugh out loud, telling daughter to "put them back, I don't need them!!".

Ahhhhhhh. Of course.

Nice purple and green soft padded square building blocks...for ladies....once a month.

Why were they at a child's reach? I noted to myself to move them around.

I am incredibly disorganised and was reminded this afternoon when aforementioned incident repeated itself. This time with a son. Oops, wasn't I supposed to rearrange that shelf?

Hmm, anyway Lost finale was on again tonight. It was amazing. I'm still Lost though. (Bad-dum-dum-TISH!)

Isn't it nice when people are nice. When people take time to contact you AND say something lovely, it's just so heart warming. *tear*. To the person who privately contacted me, thank you. I do indeed remember you from Dundrum(!) and I'll email you tonight or soon. If I'm organised. But thank you.

There was another comment left in my guestbook, which you should all go and read. It's from someone by the name of Amy. And Amy informed me of something even *I* didn't realise was possible about transplant, and I'm someone who should know everything! I hope she doesn't mind me talking about it. All I can say to her is thank you as well. As most of you know, I had a transplant (Did I ever mention that I had a transplant?!?) and went through that wait. My family experienced times where we all wondered would it ever come, but thanks to the generosity of someone like Amy's family I was saved. It is the kindest, most selfless thing a family can do. Ever.

In times of grief at the loss of a family member, the pain can be overbearing at times. Even when it's expected, it doesn't take away the pain-in-the-tummy, lump-in-the-throat sadness. So at a time like that, to stop and consider having your loved one become a donor is just amazing.

Amy's grandmother who passed away recently was 91 years old and she was able to donate her liver. Ninety-ONE!! That's like double a 45year old. That's just eye-popping. I just presumed (whoops) over sixty something, that would be it. But no. And thanks to her, another family right now are noticing the 180 turnaround in the health of their loved one.

I guide you all to the guestbook to read that comment.

Thank you.

Exams are finally over!!! You don't know how good it is to be able to proclaim that! I could just about shout it from the roof-tops!!

Yes, yes, I KNOW I personally wasn't doing any exams this year, or even studying this year and was more of a wannabe student then an actual student but still. The last two weeks have been highly annoying because nobody wants to go out. Apparently 'passing exams' is more important than going out with me. How did I fall in with such geeks in the first place?!...(Despite this, I DO love you all anyway!!)

Anyway, last night we were able to all (most of us) go out. I spotted a nice pair of heels in my room which were so pretty. I ALWAYS wear pumps going out and never wear heels, ever. I can't understand the logic of going through pain to look good and have a good time, but then not having a good time because you're in pain. I'm useless with wearing high shoes. A baby. EILEEN lives in heels (I think she's insecure about her lack of height) and I just can't do it.

Tonight though, I went for it. And I succeeded! This may sound completely bizarre, but prior to my transplant I would occasionally wear heels and when I did I would find myself getting more breathless, or tired. It makes no sense, but I swear that's true. Hand on heart!!

It was weird being that bit taller then usual but it gave me a great vantage point when that little lady had a fight on the dance floor. I wasn't able to see what was going on at first (because the lady was so small and low down) but then I spotted it. Anyone who knows me knows how I would LOVE to be witness to some drama as exciting as this! The whole situation was a bit strange. You know in a cartoon where the weak guy tries to punch and fight the beafy guy and the beafy guy simply sticks out his hand leaving the weak guy punching his heart out against the hand- well it was exactly like that. Except the 'beafy guy' was a tall stringy fellow with long hair; the 'weak guy' was this small lady with plum red hair. Despite her lack of height, it took two bouncers to carry her off. For some unknown reason my friends just carried on dancing.

When we left, there were two gardaí cars outside and rumour was ripe that the 'little lady' ( I won't say what we called her, because that might be a little un-p.c.) was being arrested, but I doubt that, I mean she wasn't THAT bad! Mind you, I couldn't actually SEE so it's possible.

Anyway apart from that scandal down the 'Palace' (never go to the Palace!) and my discovery of ability to walk in heels nothing much happened. I can't be incredibly exciting every day. Pity...

I was quite surprised at my interest in the Election Vote count today, it was addictive stuff watching it unfold on tele and listening to the radio - I felt an unknown competitive streak come to the surface in me. Unfortunately (in my opinion) it looks like Fianna Fáil (Fail?) will be back in government for another five years. We tried. It's frustrating, but I hope with the recent train of publicity for patients and services for people with Cystic Fibrosis a swift improvement will come.

My number one didn't get a seat, which was dissappointing as I feel this candiate is a genuine and over all GOOD politician and would have done us proud.

I have mentioned a few politicians in this blog, but in recent days felt the need to water down my opinions, hence lack of name drops. This isn't a political blog; this is a personal blog. I am not a canvasser for anyone, but as someone who has a real interest in it. I think if you are directly affected by the choices made by the government, then you DO care. A lot of patients with Cystic Fibrosis take their vote very seriously for this reason, and a lot more so then 'healthy' people our age. Heck, a ("healthy") reader of this blog didn't even vote as they "couldn't be bothered!!" Shocking...

And that is where my pol-ogging ends for now. That is all.

On another note, I found out today that a relative of someone I know died. It was shocking. I couldn't believe it. The person who informed me is a former friend. Like many social cirlces of young girls, "her" group and "our" group fell out a LONG time ago. I didn't get too wrapped up in it and would gladly chat to any of "them", but the same can't be said for all memebers of both parties - you know how these things are...

Anyway, out of the blue, this former friend texted. What does that show? It shows a level of maturity that has my respect for her sealed. I have known people who wouldn't pass on such news because of petty arguments and these people would be a good deal older then my former friend's twenty years.

Not only that, but of ALL my friends, this former friend was the first to let me know. One or two others claimed they forgot. People can be funny.

VOTING DAY!! Yay!...or nay...

I FINALLY finished work today, and got out at lunch. I then made my way down (I actually WALKED!!!) into town (over the bridge and on to the NORTHSIDE - don't worry I wore my bullet proof vest!) and met a friend for lunch. Said friend will be celebrating her lungs' first birthday this weekend which is moderately exciting. Lunch was expensively nice but I shan't be shelling out that money for that service any time again soon. We discussed everything under the sun, including our shared views on politics and our 'secret stuff' which may be made public some time next year. Intriguing I know...

After that, I RAN FOR the bus and got on. Once we went back over the River Liffey I felt a sense of calm again coming back to the Southside. Although without my Abercrombie labels hanging out of me or a BrownThomas bag on my arm at the time, I felt a little pauperish. It was awful...

My oldest brother and I walked down to vote this evening. I cast my vote and hope it makes some sort of difference. I then made a bet with him that in ten year's time, Fianna Fáil won't be running the country. If I'm right, I will earn €50. I wonder if I will be able to buy a bag of sweets with that....

Half way through the week already! From a work point of view, this pleases me greatly, but how scary is it how time is flying by?!

I just realised that the Mini-Marathon which I am to participate in is in less then two weeks. Now the prospect of me attempting to do THAT is scary. I figure I'll find some wheelchair bound person and ask if their pusher wants help pushing for a while. That way I won't be allowed to(forced to, pressured to) go too fast, as I can't have the person in the wheelchair getting windswept hair. Whenever I was in a wheelchair, I would enjoy taking the sights in while being chauffeured around, so I will have to take this into consideration when performing my duties. There would always be the danger however that I would get frustrated if this plan didn't work and would simply let go of the wheelchair and run off. I suppose though trying to run away from that carnage would be motivation enough...

In the case that I can't pawn off my terrible slowness when it comes to walking on to some poor unfortunate wheelchair person, I will have to come up with a plan B. This would have incorporated some sort of Rollerblades/skates idea, except that they're considered contraban, and there's always one who will rat you out!

I could always say to my group 'Oh hey guys, I'm gona run up ahead if that's ok' and then catch a bus/taxi - and while morally I would absolutely no qualms whatsoever with this idea, the fear of getting caught would be in the back of my head. And I can guarantee some old biddy on the bus would take it as her duty to report me - again, always one!

Plan C, would involve not actually starting at the start line, but rather hide out behind a tree half way up the course and then join in. Again, a very good method, except knowing my luck, I would still end up not being able to keep up, and would have to resort to Plan A- the wheelchair method.

And the only other option left, which I feel is probably the most secure from all angles, is to simply not run at all. This would work, as it would mean there would be no chance of me being late for the race, I wouldn't have to run (just fake some 'oh I'm wrecked!' breathlessness) and I would still get my medal. I would take the bus over to the finish line, buy myself an ice cream and simply wait. When a huge gang of finishers comes in, I simply join them.

Cheating? I think not. I like to think of it as 'thinking outside the box!'.

Congrats to my sister who was ordained (?) a prefect today. A better one you would probably not find. Except for me. But I was too cool for all that stuff...

Some smart wise cracker remarked that someday I would regret the amount of food I consume daily (which admittedly is quite a lot, and of that lot, quite a lot isn't the most nutritious). It would seem that for once, that smart wise cracker would be right. I am not requiring someone to roll me into work just yet or anything, but today I experienced my first brush with food poisoning. Bleugh!! At least that's what I'm guessing it is. Bleugh!! Had I not been so enthusiastic (as I am everyday) at lunchtime, I wouldn't have purchased that tasty looking chicken wrap thing. It wasn't made in front of me, but rather a pre-packaged yoke - Bleugh!! Not good!

Apart from the complete lack of sleep tonight (I'm writing this on Wednesday so pretending it's Tuesday, so I am referring to Tuesday night - KEEP UP!) and being up every hour until 7am when I then slept fine (how typical!) I feel better now.

Did I mention - BLEUGH!!

This week I am working 9-5 in the office until Wednesday when I will retire *cry*. I'll miss those krazy kats in that place!

Funnily enough, the sort of work (and pace/pressure of) is exactly the kind of work I was initially brought in to do back at Christmas. Unfortunately the system I am using in work to do my work is rather complicated which means there is absolutely no fast way of gettin the job done. I may leave a happy woman knowing I will never have to copy and paste again for a long time!

Today at lunch I learned of a story about a poor unfortunate child.

PICTURE THIS: This child was placed in a microwave by her Dad (and I presume he shut the door and turned it on) Now the child survived and is doing well. It's appalling, but let me ask you this:

Was your first thought "Oh my, that's dreadful!!" or was it (be honest) "How is it even possible to fit a child into a microwave (unless its a industrial thing)???

Think about that.

Sunday - great day that.

I am someone who is so incredibly organised and I like to have everything I need for the day in my handbag setting off to work. This 'everything' includes everything from my phone, i-pod, diary to my medications, insulin and needles. As such, trying to put together such a complicated survival pack for the day can take time, and since I'm one busy woman, I have NO time to do this stuff. And as such, had I not driven to work today I would have been late, So I nabbed the keys and zoomed (at the correct speed limit) to work!

When I left the house everyone else was asleep which meant I got to skip the 'irresponisble to drive alone' statement that repeats itself from my Dad's mouth every now and again.

When I arrived at work I had to park at the back as there were no spaces out front. 'At the back' is in an estate of houses behind the pharmacy.

And do you know what? A man who supposdly has a life, has plenty of things to be doing with his time, plenty of hobbies to enjoy came and checked up on me! And went and found my car and where I had parked it!! (This could be construde as making sure I arrived safely, but we all know it was to check had I been able to park it well). You meet all sorts of FREAKS these days!!

We had, what can only be described as a wonderful evening with my cousin and her husband then. The food was so nice, and it was great to meet them and chat. After dinner and a fountain of drink we 'attempted' a sing song (which for anyone who knows us knows it is a regular nightly feature at our house....*ahem*...). I say 'attempted' referring to the Fitz's as our guests were great in their playing/singing/performing. The song we all mangaed to try and sing was 'My lovely horse' from Father Ted. That and Titanic (yes, I am STILL rolling that dead horse out ten years on!)

I drove into town to drop them back afterwards which was an experience to say the least. A whole load of drunks sprawling all over the road/path means you have to have your eyes open all the time. But as usual, I passed that task with flying colours...

Today a man arrived to fix my laptop this morning. Now there's a story worth telling. But I won't.

I felt a good deal better again today and went into work for the afternoon.

Tomorrow I work in the pharmacy.

We will then entertain my cousin and her husband who now live in NewYork, and whom I haven't seen in about ten years.

I say 'we' will entertain but really I mean my parents. I will just help to eat the food and drink the wine, and basically put my feet up and act like a guest too. Keep in mind I will be working tomorrow. I think I deserve it; 9-5, one day a week is HARSH!

Comp winner: Shell and MissT - Congrats! And hard luck to those who tried and failed. That'll teach you never to try! Unfortunately there can only be ONE winner/prize though, so you'll have to fight amongst yourselves for the prize!

Second Post: Just watched the debate between Bertie Ahearn and Enda Kenny which made for interesting TV. It was great that the MC got a question in about Cystic Fibrosis and the services/faililties for patients in this country. Oh wait, did I say facilities?? No, I meant LACK OF! I can't say who came off better, I think perhaps Bertie at times, at others, Enda. Personally I don't like the way the country is being run at the moment, and while I see some good has been done, I see a lot more yet to do. Change can be a good thing. Everyone could do with a change... So in my bias opinion, I think Enda was better overall . I think I would echo the response I have heard so far, although in terms of poor Bertie, I'm being a lot kinder. I wouldn't ever say the word T*T on MY blog after all!

Not Irish? Sorry, tonight's blog probably sailed right over your head...

Comp Answer: Is just plain and simple, boring and dandy, Rabbit. Who wins? YOU decide! Miss T and Shell both claim to have the correct answer, but, um, I don't like making decisions. If anyone wants to have a look at the battle of the Winnie the Pooh fans going on in the guestbook and wish to voice your opinion on the winner, please do. Seriously, PLEASE, DO!!

FIRST POST:
The COMP ANSWER: OK, I checked it out, and nobody technically got the right answer! Shame on you! Boooo! I was actually quite surprised because I assumed the answer was Piglet! Well done all on getting that it was from Winnie the Pooh. The closest correct answer came from Shell who suggested "a rabbit" (although I'm horrifed you thought Beatrix Potter was DISNEY!). The "rabbit" is indeed covered by the butter.

Anyway, since nobody actually got it right, and I'm a stickler for rules (when I set them!), I will give until Friday at dawn(!) to get the "rabbit's" name....Get going!




Now, its that rabbit looking yoke to the right of the tree I'm after. Apologies for the kitchen lights! They're only covering a mousy looking fella anyway who I don't recognise at ALL. In fact, THAT would make a good comp, name that SHAPE!

Well would you look at that? How quickly it can change, but how quickly it can change back! My temperature settled last night and has stayed down since. I woke up very much refreshed and more importantly, ACHE FREE! I am still a little bit tired, but the feelings of relief trump that. Symptoms of being sick, for me anyway, always plant that seed of doubt in my mind, that it could be more then just a common cold-ie, rejection- Which is a little silly because rejection (acute) is something that can be treated successfully and pretty easily, so it's not something to have a heart attack over. It's pretty much one of those subconscious thoughts, and not one I entertain much, however too much time (stuck at home, not up to doing anything) on your hands, is too much time that could be better occupied NOT thinking!

I stumbled across something in my house today, and I was quite shocked that such an item lay under my nose without me noticing it before. Something with the potential for jokes (cheesy ones- right up my alley!) such as this and I missed it. Let me set the scene (and such a dilemma has come up between myself and my friends HUNDREDS of times, let me tell you!).

You are sitting with a group of acquaintances in your house. You all begin to get a bit hungry, and so the question comes up. Should you offer your acquaintances some sandwiches OR should you cook up and offer them pizza. And if you have ever been in MY house with ME as your entertainer, you know how realistic this very setting is! Oh boy, how many times I have asked myself this very question, while my hungry guests lay starving as I stress in the kitchen.

WELL! Look no further. Because if you can't decide between and sandwich and a pizza, why not try:

The "Piz 'wich"!!!

I thought I would laugh so much, something would come out the other end! Which really isn't a good look if you're standing in the kitchen alone, with just the dog for company. My neighbours must have thought that dog would make quite the comedy act....Or that I'm really a big weirdo after all.

Anyway, what next, a Ban-Apple??!! (Gotta love my efforts!)

Tomorrow I will be back on my politics horse, discussing Eamon Ryan and Seamus Brennan, and any other leaflet/pamphlets I receive. Not wanting to give away my location here or anything...

How quickly it can all change...Well in hindsight (from re-reading my blogs, see their usefulness!), this hasn't really come on suddenly.

For the last few days, I have been sleeping in until noon-lunch. I know I love my bed, and am known to be rather lazy, but I don't ever really sleep this late. Ever(Unless partying has featured majorly the night before!)! Last Tuesday, I pretty much had a sleeping marathon, followed by a sleepless night and late next morning.

This morning (afternoon?) I woke with aches - everywhere. When I took a deep breath it hurt, and my neck was screaming for some sort of brace to keep it from hurting! Even my skin was sensitive to touch. I had been planning to go to the office yesterday, and then today, and although no sniffles were present, and I SOUND fine, I just didn't feel like doing anything or going anywhere, be it go shopping or even watch TV- it's a strange feeling to describe.

So after all this I took out the thermometer - which thankfully since my transplant, has never had much use. Queue nice warm temperature! After transplant, this holds much more significance, as it acts as a major indicator for infection and rejection. Queue worriedness!

I'm pretty sure I'm fine though, and these peculiar symptoms are nothing more then the latest thing 'going around'. I took two paracetamol and they seem to be working somewhat this evening which is definitely a good sign.

Anyway I shall gladly welcome tomorrow when I am sure I shall feel the world better!

Regarding the comp: I need to go and find that pesky plate because the different answers have me doubting my own answer! I'll let you know tomorrow.

Complete Edit: Whooops, I should probably be more careful about what names I use in this blog, regarding certain politicians. There is a very real chance now that that private messenger is not a regular reader of my blog and thus must think I am some crazy, angry, frustrated with life, mad woman (who loves her potatoes!...Gosh those potatoes tonight were good...) and probably took my rant blog very seriously.

Who would have thought it?!

Somebody (somewhat anonymously although not quite) left me an interesting private message in my guestbook. Either this person has not been reading my blog very long, and thus not used to my constant tongue in cheek remarks about life, or else took me up incorrectly. That happens to me a lot.

The reason I bring this up, is because I feel is it a good opportunity to raise some positive debate about politics. This person seemed (if I read it correctly) to think that I don't care about politics or who is in government which could NOT be further from the truth! Either this person felt that, or disagreed with my statement which could have been perceived as support for the current health minister (note: that was an example). I'm not sure. My point in my recent 'rant about people who sit on their bums and complain about politicians when they clearly haven't researched who they are talking about and simply add chorus to the media orchestra' blog was exactly that; there are people out there who just sit and complain. It is not just when it comes to politics either, it is simply their way of life. It's what they do.

Anyway, why am I responding publicly to this comment? Because this person left no email address for me to reply to. Pity.

And before I read that comment, I was JUST about to blog about how another canvasser came to my door and nearly guessed that I was old enough to vote! I rolled my eyes when he asked to speak to the 'voters of the house', but he redeemed himself as he was about to leave, with a friendly "You're not able to vote yet, are you?" (See he probably wasn't sure, which is better then presuming not!). I smiled politely and said I was. It was raining, it was miserable and he was oldish. I wasn't going to give this guy a hard time about thinking I was 14.

Comp closes tomorrow and I need to check if the two answers already in are correct. I assumed not, but now I'm not so sure...

I like potatoes. A lot. With butter. A lot.


My mum seems to have taken note of my heroin like addiction to potatoes lately. I seem to go through phases of loving certain foods, but I think there is a reason behind my irrational need. You must understand (and many of my family/friends will vouch for me on this) that prior to transplant, I did not eat. Not at all. Ever. EVER. ....OK maybe sometimes, but that was it. Sweets was pretty much what I could tolerate, but chocolate wasn't included in that. Or bread, or sandwiches, or biscuits or anything. NOTHING. I had a mouth and I used it for talking, not for eating. I had no appetite for eating, and had absolutely no interest in it. Just like some people miss the opening episode of a new TV drama and then don't bother trying to catch up, I never developed an appetite, and thus stopped trying to get one. I was on feeds and they were my safety net. They saved my life really, as I would have become so thin without them, the danger was I could have just slipped down a drain one day. *GONE* At the same time though, they gave me that protection, that ability to be lazy and stubborn about eating.

From time to time however, new foods would catch my eye, or take my fancy. I would think 'oh now I LIKE that!' Before that thought had even processed through my mind though, we would have stocked up on a year's supply of said new novelty. The cupboards would burst at the hinges as we stuffed as many value packs of whatever this food was in. The logic was that if I discovered something which would help me put on weight (without a fuss as I was enjoying it) we would take full advantage of it.

Nine times out of ten the obsession would be gone by the end of the month. The unwanted goods were shared between my siblings (much to their delight) and that would be it, until the next random bus of random food came by.

Now I have an appetite. I ENJOY food and I, most of the time, don't feel the burning pressure to eat. Eat fast. Eat faster. GET THOSE CALORIES IN! Old habits are hard to break though, and even now, when I see a new food or develop a taste for new foods (see previous blogs re: MacDonald's, EddieRockets, TGI's, Beans on Toast) I tend to keep eating it as I need to maximise this new calorie opportunity.

Just a way to explain my food likes anyway!

And for a bonus point: Who can tell me what Disney character is hidden below the melting butter on my plate? (Notice the addition of butter to gain weight?!) Answers in Guestbook by Tuesday! Winner shall be announced then!

OH AND I like to get around to thanking my guestbookers every once in a while. So thanks to the following people: Babs, Mike, Pinkfink, Eil (can't remember if you actually did but I'll presume you did) Harry, Shell and Shar. And 'anon' - there's always one. If anyone spots Charlie in there let me know! She owes me a visit!

Although sales of Heat/Closer/Now/New/Reveal/More/Star/AnyOtherTrashyMagazine have fallen considerably since I stopped going into hospital I would still be fairly up to date of Celebrity gossip and who's dating who (at hour of publishing this blog).

Last night my eyes were opened to the, what I consider to be astonishing impact/effects that the media has on peoples' minds. I slave away to look after some girls every so often (I babysit) and last night was one of those times. One of the girls was busy acting out a skit type thing that she had to prepare for school. I was her Editor and Typist/Scribe, her Advisor and Director...and pretty much every other role she was 'too busy' to fulfil. Anyway, we were there and this young girl was acting it all out and I would type it out for her. I had to pull her up on a few things like 'You can't say 'Shut Up' as some teachers may disapprove' and yadda yadda. And then came to the part where she acted out a well known famous girl band. A girl band that are rather Loud. And they are Allowed to be Loud. These girls are allowed. (Geddit??). She then said:

"Hiiiiiiiii!!! I'm X and I love my alcohol!'. This girl is YOUNG. And she came out with that. Now this band member does have a reputation of a party girl but still.

I told her we were NOT putting that in the script. Think of something else. She then said:

"Hiiiiiiiii!!! I'm X and I am suuuuper sexy skinny" (Does a little wiggle). HELLLO!!! I firmly told her we were not putting that in the script either. Or that wiggle for that matter!

She darted me a look that said 'You are SOOO uncool. And old." Clearly I am way out of touch, way too old and way too uncool.

She did tell me that I was a fast typist though. I'm uncool, old and a fast typist. Great.

Anyway, point of ramble: None. Just a ramble. About how children are growing up way too fast these days, or how they are being exposed to way too much these days. What ever happened to listening to the wireless and doing an impromptu traditional Irish jig around the room for entertainment?

An hour in pictures

I said recently how my latest obsession is a potato salad thing with chicken and ketchup and garlic salt like shaky stuff. Anyway, I fixed my camera today so had to adjust the settings, thus took a pile of photos. A pile. Like a mountain pile. Here is my cooking hour in photos.

• Step 1. Pick your potatoes. I like to go for 'New Season' and ones that are 'Super Value'.(OK I lie, these were the ones I found when I went rooting about the kitchen. I don't really know the difference between potatoes)

• Step 2: Put the potatoes in an old fashioned pot (they taste so much better ) and put that old fashioned famine style pot on the really modern (I swear) and nice looking hob. Pour boiling water into the old fashioned famine style pot and boil. (We really honestly do have lovely stainless steel pots, but I was experimenting and didn't want to do so in a NICE pot OK?)
  

Step 3. You go off and watch Neighbours and forget completely about the potatoes and then remember and run back in a little late. (No photo for that one)

Step 4. Attack any living in thing present in room and demand they tell you why they didn't alert you to potatoes.

Step 5. Find only dog for step 4. Note dog's expression. Remember that the dog, quite frankly, does not care.

Step 6: Put the lettuce and potatoes on a plate with butter, ketchup, salt and that garlic shaky thing that's like salt and eat! (Make sure there is chicken in house BEFORE you begin cooking.)


Step 7: Work some what on the presentation. DON'T put ketchup in the middle. NOT practical

Oh and here is that garlic shaky salt like thing I used. I don't know what you call it:

The general election is looming (May 24th?) and this is my first opportunity to vote. So far:

I could build a house with all the fliers I have been sent from all the politicians.

They all care for MY needs. Funnily they also care for my family's needs in an identical way.

TWO canvassers have come a knocking at my door and done the worst thing imaginable. So bad that they have lost my vote. Had they threatened me for their vote I wouldn't have minded as much.

They asked TO. TALK. TO. SOMEONE. IN. THE. HOUSE. WHO. CAN. VOTE. With me, standing, right, there. They asked ME, a VOTER.

No. Don't do that. BAD move.

If I had had a frying pan in my hand (despite the fact that I never cook or use a frying pan) I would have probably swung at their heads to make that really loud clanging noise. And then to see their eyes cross and shake, that would have made me feel better.

I also received a flier from Liz O'Donnell (Progressive Democrat) who says "When I am re-elected...". Don't be so presumptuous please. That's another no-no. And as for 'Working hard to deliver for me' I have never met the woman in my life and as someone who has a keen interest/want to improving many areas that affect me she SHOULD come and listen to me. Maybe she heard she could be here all day... Anyway I would like to actually see evidence of work she has done.

Anyway politics rant over. Oh except apart from all that, the other thing I can't stand are people who complain and do nothing constructive about it! (Gets shield to protect oneself from bullets) People who just go along with media propaganda annoy me. People who do no research to form opinions of their own, but rather come out with statements like (for example) 'Oh Mary Harney, she's useless'. If these people actually studied the work she has done, instead of just ranting and moaning like journalists in tabloids do, then they may have basis for their opinions, but come on, we all know they didn't.

NOW, rant over. Had to get that off my chest.

Oh one really LAST point: Someone who reads this blog (we won't mention your/her name) refuses to vote this year!! To that person, please click HERE. I think this site is aimed at YOU! Melon, I hope you won't be conjuggled (is that a word?) into joining her!! TUT.

Day 14/182 of Roaccatane 'miracle acne drug' tablets

One thinks that one may have slightly TOO much sleep yesterday - so much for only sleeping when you need it! I went to bed at the very modest hour of 1am and could not for the LIFE of me enter the land of nod. I tossed and turned, I rearranged my four pillows several times into little mountains that resembled an arm-chair, a slope, an inverted slope, I took some away and added some more and nothing. Zilch. Zero. I ended up watching TV (Beeb's Panorama with the Sign Lady who only comes out in the dead of night) and then tried reading my book. Still nout. Until 7am. Then I finally fell to sleep. Consequently I slept most of the morning, but that's OK. I can live with that.

I got up at around midday and fed myself my latest obsession which is a homemade salad with boiled potatoes, lettuce and chicken, topped with ketchup, salt and garlic salt like shaky stuff. Oh and butter! I've been adding butter to absolutely EVERYTHING I eat these days in attempt to keep on my weight. I was originally on those big gain weight milkshakes, but they're supposed to be 'supplements' not 'replacements for meals' which is what they were becoming.I seem to be surviving without so I'll continue to go this way me thinks.

I then went shopping and got my brand new spanking fancy pretty cross trainers which will make me look really professional when I turn up for the Mini-Marathon next month. Growing up, because I was always so skinny people used to think I was mega fit. Of course, I didn't exactly deter them from this theory, and when I saw people looking at me as though I could be the next athlete I would do some (probably useless) stretches to add fuel to their fire of thought. I do/did things like that.

Anyway apart from little bits and pieces I didn't do much shopping. My sister is supposed to be shopping regularly so I can pinch stuff from her as we're pretty similar in size. In fact, I think it rather selfish that she hasn't been shopping in a while, like what am I supposed to wear here?! My old stuff?? She blames things like 'no money' and 'Rosie, I'm busy in school' as though they be worthy excuses. Doesn't she realise that I actually work part-time every now and again and that I NEED clothes?! *Rolly Eyes*

I got up late and went back to bed. I slept. I think I needed my sleep otherwise I wouldn't have spent so much time sleeping. Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel much brighter!

Yeah, that's pretty much all that happened today. I could of course tell you about when I bashed my knee (off what I can't remember) and now there is one massive bruise coming up. It's not one of those brown/yellow bruises though, it's like red! I guess when you have less white blood cells then normal that can happen. Quite the shiner it must be said!

I happened to notice that up the North, they have entered power sharing, with Ian Paisley as the president guy and Martin McGuiness as the deputy guy. At long last is all I can say. I wonder will Sky News stop calling Derry 'Londonderry' though?

Bank Holiday Monday. Nothing really ever happens on a Bank Holiday Monday. Everywhere is closed and everywhere that's not closed is packed. Jam packed. So there really is nothing to do but sit and twiddle one's thumbs and listen to the eery grandfather clock tick. And tock. And tick some more.

I went out driving today as I needed to fill up on petrol. Delilah told me she could only go a further thirty-something miles until she would refuse to go any further. I obliged until my Dad told me I shuold fill up with €30.00 worth. What a jip. I don't think I'll be as enthusiastic to go out and practise so much anymore. I was a bit take aback that I needed €30.00, but HE said there's no point in putting less. If anyone thinks this doesn't sound right, please let me know!

A whole lot of something happened today which made the day enjoyable. To write it out however would mean typing, and as you can probably tell I am already backtracking my blogs so that would take work. I hate work. Well I don't hate work, slight exaggeration, but boy am I lazy.

I meant to say yesterday that on the 05/05 it was exactly 12 years since I made my first holy communion. I actually wore pumps for the first time that day too. I remember being really annoyed that my Mum wouldn't let me wear a veil (she said simplicity was the key), but I did look rather pretty in my ball gown style dress, my hair done, my little bag, my new bracelet and shoes. I had a million photos taken that day too and I loved every minute of looking like a princess.

After the mass we went into the school hall where there was a 'breakfast' of fairy cakes and fizzy pop laid out for all the little boys and girls to sit down and eat. This was also the ideal opportunity for the video camera man to go around and film all of us gaily enjoying our special day. I remember being very thirsty and when allocated my seat, the first thing I did was reach out for my drink. See, they never told us that they had already poured the drink into the cups. Why would anyone do that?? Anyway, I reached out for my very classy plastic cup and THOUGHT it was empty so literally turned it upside down (in a way to shake it and say 'HELLO! I NEED A DRINK' - I swear other people used to do that) and all of a sudden *splash* the contents poured out like a mini waterfall. There was a lady standing right beside me and in a split second moved in a way that any superhero would be proud of and grabbed me from my seat. She did a quick examination (No, not of my arms that she so forcefully nabbed) of my lovely dress. I was still dry and clean and sparkling. Anyway I was moved to another area and then next lady, having obviously received the reports that I shouldn't be trusted with any sort of cup, dutifully handed, very. slowley. and. delibreatly. a. new. cup. and. told. me. to. BE CAREFUL as this one was full. I didn't care much about the chaos I had just caused - I was thirsty!

Anyway, so much has changed since that glorious Saturday in 1995. Some people present that day are no longer with us, so much can happen in 12 years. At the age of seven I didn't really think too much into the future or ever really worry about what it might hold. I had never heard of transplants, nor did I realise that CF was progressive. That day, I was more concerned about how many other girls turned up deprived of a veil too. Being different was something I always loathed.

My seemingly never ending working week of 9-6 has ended. I have a shopping list of NEEDS that NEEDS to be fulfilled so that will be my main goal this week. I NEED new runners (cross trainers, how fancy) and new shoes in general as the lack of support and complete impracticality that comes along with all my other shoes is beginning to be a pain. I mean that quite litreally. I also NEED to get new clothes to fill my summer wardrobe ( it would appear I have put on a great deal of weight this year!) and I also NEED a bikini. I also NEED to get my hair done and buy some new fake tan. Did I ever mention that since my transplant (Did I ever mention I had a transplant??) I can't seem to catch a tan. EVen if I was to set myself alight with matches I don't think I would muster a pink colour. Quite a teeny tiny minor itsy bitsy annoyance in the grand scheme of things me thinks though.

I went and did some research in to the Dunlaorghrie Baths (swimming pool) to see if they were still available to swim in. This place used to be the disneyland of swimming pools in its day, and even had a few water slide/chute things. They got shut down after (rumour has it) a girl flew down them in a rather enthusiastic manor, flailing her arms around , squeeling with delight and having the time of her life until her finger got caught somewhere and *yoink*, that finger was no more. They said it even followed her down a few minutes later, and that's when the spectators realised just what had happened. Then the yarn kind of trailed off and there was some whispers that she died. I'm not so sure about the last part though. Or the first part. Anyway, it was a nice place. The slides were long shut before I went there, but the water came right in from the sea. It was pure salt water from the sea withouth the hazzards of being swept out to sea if you were to sit on a lilo, which I have been very reliably informed from my Mum that that thing actually can happen. Scary...

Anyway, following my research I discovered teh place is now a disused wreck. They're trying to build apartments over it. The really funny thing is, is that in the states these 'salt' pools are all the rage nowadays - no chlorine and messy chemicals. So what's going to happen? They'll shut this one down. They'll open a brand new 'salt water good for your health' pool in some health spa in the Wiclow mountains and charge a fortune to get in.

You see, I can have intelligent opinions on current affairs sometimes too. Here's a picture of what the lovely baths look like now: (I swear it wasn't *this* bad when I went there!!)

More: Hot weather and work




In that order.

Hotter and hotter it continues to get/be. I slaved in the office today. I went across to the park at lunchtime along with the other gazillion billion people who were also on their lunch break. It was like an oven, SOOO hot, but it was lovely. Unfortunately I had a microwaveable meal which I wasn't prepared to eat un-microwaved so I had cut short my park bathing and get back in. In hindsight a hot sweet and sour chicken meal wasn't the most practical of meal choices on a day as hot as this, but I had an icepop to balance things out. And a big bag of crisps. And a chocolate bar. And a bottle of Diet coke. And it was a proper bottle not one of those so called 'fun size' bottles, which in reality are no FUN at all because you get about TWO mouthfuls out of them and then they're gone.

I also walked around in my vest top today, exposing my arms and shoulders to the sun (I'm BAD I know!) but once again I didn't even go pink. Or slightly pink. Or any other shade of colour related to pink. Which is weird considering my pre transplant days where I was get a golden tan!! I was even sun burned going for my transplant in July. You see in my very early days after transplant (day 1-3) I was on an anti-rejection medication called Cyclosporin, which made me go very pink all over. It gave me a million white head ugly looking spots on my face, and I looked like I had just got in from hours of sun-baking. I was taken off this medication shortly afterwards, but I often wonder had this stuff got anything to do with my current state of non pinkling.

And on a final note, unrelated to the weather., the elections are coming up soon. It will be my first opportunity to vote and most other years I have some opinion except this year, when I actually need one. As part of the "Sick Waiting" campaign organised by the Cystic Fibrosis Association, we got a slot on PrimeTime which was excellent. I thought the piece came across very well and featured myself (as the post transplant person), A lady up in Dundalk (as the pre transplant person, as well as someone who receives their treatments outside the republic) and a young lady known as Miss T (who is not a t transplant stage, a student, and a patient in Vincents Hospital). With the elections looming what we really need our improved standards both with regard to staffing levels and isolation units for patients. Each of the parties was asked what they would do for PWCF (people with CF) if they got into government. The various responses were interesting, except for Fianna Fáil which simply quoted their previous budget investments. That wasn't much of an answer in my opinion and a bit of a cop out to be honest. Anyway I haven't decided who to vote for yet. Only three weeks to decided I think...

The long hot heat is well and truely setting in. It's beautiful, wonderful, spectacular - or so it *looks* that way from WORK!!! Due to unforseen events, I ended up working 7 out of 8 days this week, 9-6pm. Actually as tiring (and depressing) as it is, I think its good for me to be up that early each morning. I have only required a nap for the first time today, which shows that my energy reserve has grown in the last few months.

Today was work in the pharmacy, and tomorrow it's off to the office. I don't really have anything exciting to say today - I can't be exciting EVERY day!!

It's May. It's May! It's May?? Wow, it's May.

I was writing the date down this morning in work, and I paused when I realised it was May already. I am coming up to the anniversary of my first transplant call. It's not something I will mark, and I certainly won't be lighting any candles on cakes and then quickly blowing them out to signify the transplant that almost happened. But at the same time, it's in the back of my mind. It was around this time that it dawned on me that I must be pretty sick. Denial has always been my best coping mechanism, so it was a bit of a shock to realise that they wanted me transplanted so soon. Especially since I knew people who I considered to be far sicker then me, and who had been waiting far longer.

I can ramble on about the events that took place that day/evening, and will do closer to the date. I'll wait for a mundane day with NOTHING happening and then I'll gabble about it.

The only other interesting thing of significance, which successfully made its way around the WHOLE office was a slight 'incident' that occurred mid morning. You see, I decided, as you do, that I needed to pop to the ladies. All was going fine, GREAT even. I waltzed into the the pokey COSY loo, looked around, thought it looked acceptable.

Toilet roll? Check

Clean floors? Check

Light? Check

Everything seemed fine. I glanced at my watch and realised that break was just on its way. I had better HURRY! So what did I do? I did what anyone would do. I closed the door and LOCKED it. Well, that went fine, until I pulled my hand away and the HANDLE. CAME. OFF. IN. MY. HAND!

Oh. CRUMBS.

THAT did NOT just happen!! I looked at the pathetic handle in my hand, back to the door with absent handle and then back to my hand again. I stuck my little finger in the hole to try and fix it but to no avail. I ran the events back over in my head while looking at handle and door back and forth.This was the kind of thing that happened in my nightmares!! I called my good colleague KM for help. OVER and over and over again. Nothing. Zilch. I knocked on the door, cursing the fact that I had no phone on me. I pondered the idea of going to the toilet first and then worry about my rescue afterwards, but let's just say, the idea of a group of my colleagues finally pounding down the door only for them all to FAINT due to 'an odour or two' would be even worse then my current situation.

SO I decided to shout for another few people./ Trusty G-raze heard me and came out. I told her sweetly to 'COME HERE!' and I explained in a mature manner my predicament. She. fell. around. Laughing. SOME HELP!!

Anyway with the aid of another one or two people, we got the lock/handle problem resolved. By the end of the day, everyone had heard. My boss (as in the guy who runs the show in that place, don't get much bigger then he) came up with a nickname for me. It's too rude to repeat though. Needless to say, my visa for ''Swallows-ville- the hole in the ground underneath me' is about to be finalised, and I saw some lovely head shaped paper bags in Tesco this evening.