Goodbye Shanghai

10 injections left. Yes indeedy. As of March 19 it will no longer be thrice weekly injections of the Chinese hamsters for me. They will be replaced (blood count willing) with - a 1 yearly, 8 hours a day for 5 days only - infusion of the mysterious sounding Alemtuzamub. This is not a recently deposed dictator from the Middle East. Nor is it a modal scale much loved by free form Jazz musicians. You don't take it with cous-cous and it won't clean drains. It is however the all singing, all dancing MS drug that I've waited two years for. It's 30% more effective than the Chinese and 60% more effective than doing nothing.

I can't say I'll miss the hamsters. Two weeks ago my applicator - a Rebiject MkII (automatic) in case you're wondering - jammed at the deepest setting. I didn't notice first time on account of my right bum cheek being largely feelingless. But oh boy did my left bum know about it. Half an inch might seem trivial to some but not to my bum. Bruised and sore (I hit a capillery apparantly) I was unable to sit comfortably for days. So, no...fare-thee-well my genetically modified Chinese rodent ovaries...I'm moving onto pastures new. Bring forth the Alemtuzamub....let's get it on.

Writers block

I'm back. I haven't been anywhere. I merely fell off my blogging bicycle and the longer I left it the more difficult it was to get back on. But the truth is I fell off because I had nothing left to blog...better to say nothing than talk about nothing. Trial world has been a bit dull really. The highlight of November was an exploding blood spinning machine. All was ok until a sudden "BANG" and then my blood was splattered Tarantino like onto the top of the glass roof. A splurge of red. What looked very impressive at high speed spinning, like a Dali-an expression of my illness gradually became a blob as it slowed down. A bit like my attempts at a potters wheel....at high speed it's a vase, then as it slows down it's a bowl, it's an ashtray, it's a shapeless lump of clay. So my blood turned out to be less like a Monet and more akin to a Pollock. That brings me nicely to my Vasectomy. You're right. Too much information. Somethings should remain unblogged...well, unblocked.

let's fly away

I finally finished my 2010 tour schedule with a quick flight to and from Edinburgh before driving down to Wales for the week. My carbon footprint is not good this year. I've flown over 20, 000 miles in person but my blood has blown that away with its monthly journeys totalling up at over 65,000. Bloody Hell. I wonder if I can retrospectively claim airmiles for my blood.

Talking of blood the vampire lady rang me the other day to confirm our monthly blood letting. And then she casually threw in that it would be a longer appointment because the Americans wanted to "check something" so she needed to spin my blood.
Check what?
"Oh, nothing"
How are you going to check nothing?
"It's all quite routine" she said
Well I beg to differ. Routine is what happens every month. Centrafugally spinning my blood for fifteen minutes is not routine. It's occasional. It makes me dizzy at the thought of it. My blood has had quite enough adventure this year with out throwing in personalised fairground rides.

die-caffeinated

It's been a long week
.... down to Whitechappel for the quarterly neuroteaser checks...Made a good start -  only got two questions wrong in the maths marathon addition competition. Put in a good showing in the short corridor sprint, but nowhere near my personal best and the 1/2K walk to Commercial Street has been replaced by an indoor version - the walking machine - not as pleasant but that's scientific progress for you. Leg tickling and pushing me over when my eyes are shut and I'm standing on one leg all went according to plan. I do love it at clinical research. It's like a surreal day out in a 60's Doctor About The House film. NeuroBond thinks my lax right leg is not a sign of exacerbations but a continuation of March's relapse which is comforting (I'm not imagining it) and annoying (6 months is surely enough lapsing). The rest of my time is spent waiting for Moneypenny to extract enough blood to satisfy the American pharmacutical company's vampirical lust.

Sitting and waiting is the perfect time to log on (it's a Wifi hospital) and catch up on e-mails. There's one from the blog marketing company who aren't making it easy for me to earn the full meal and west end show experience. The last two "job opportunities" have been for funeral services and a coffee shop in Vancouver. Even with my lateral sense of thinking and even after a bottle of red wine I can't make my blog meander through the subjects of death and coffee drinking in Canada (they also offer a selection of panini's and wraps if you're in the area) whilst living in London. But, with $12 at stake....

"I'm dying for a coffee....thought I'd try this new place in Vancouver...6,000 mile round trip taking three days but boy the coffee was worth it...on the downside all that coffee, travel and jetlag has given me hypertension...a great incentive to plan for my funeral...."

bum

My poor old legs have had enough of injections. They've got the needle. Or more acurately too much needle. Injection fatigue. They've had enough of feeling a prick. Two red blotches have grown wider and redder. My hither too manly hairy thighs have gradually taken on the look of a well waxed male model. Only it's not the look for a middled aged balding man with a beer belly...and certainly not just one large bald circle on either thigh. The bald circles, alas, mirror my head - where I've never injected incedently - and now I'm beginning to feel a percecution that entails every limb collecting a bald patch. Three down, two to go...is the head a limb? Anyway, Neurobond, who was on particularly good form at our recent Neuroteaser session says I should try my bum....actually he said buttock, but bum feels less scientific...so I'm no longer a leg man. Me? I'm a bum man.

up on the roof

Such is the popularity and quality of this blog that I was contacted by a digital marketing company who offered me money to write the blog. It was all very simple and went something like this....They would match companies seeking blogs on their subject matter to my blog. So if Asda were hoping to increase interest in their new range of health insurance this comapny would let me know, I would include discussion of health insurance in my next posting, mention that Asda were great, Asda would pay the company and the company would pay me. Mine being a health blog meant I would be matched to companies interested in health issues. Easy. How much was the big question? How much? $6 a post was the life changing answer. But hell - despite the disingenuous nature of covertly using my real life blog to advertise products for my own financial reward - 52 posts a year at $6 a post would pay for a romantic meal and a West End show for me and the wife. Happy days.


The difficulty of having MS, I find is when you want to use interlocking roofing tiles. I guess it’s the numbess in my fingers that mean my choice of interlocking roofing tiles is a new company called Avernex. It’s reassuring to know that when I’m replacing the roof I can easily interlock the roof tiles and get off the roof quickly before I suffer a relapse or a dizzy spell. So if you’re suffering a long term illness and thinking of replacing your roof I suggest you consider interlocking roofing tiles. They really do interlock and go on the roof.

That’s a prawn cocktail in the bag.

no flies on me

The advantages of having MS just seem to expand all the time. Once again the hot Mediterranean country of Spain has shown the way forward. Not this time the joys of walking unhindered down red hot asphalt paths without feeling the burning sensation in my feet. (see post 18/08/2009) This was far more practical and handy. Flies. Yes, flies. It happened when we went to visit friends in Marbella. We took the coast road down from our regular haunt of Nerja down to the luxury resort arriving in time for a splendid bar-b-q and a large, thirst quenching cocktail. Bliss. "If it wasn't for those pesky flies" said everyone as they swatted the damn things every time they landed. Everyone except me. What flies? "The two walking up your right leg for a start". Sorry, my right legs an authentic registered spastic and does not recognise, feel or notice insects alighting on it. So there we have it. Spain is where MS sufferers should move to and enjoy the freedom of walking bare foot on hot roads and the pleasure of bar-b-q's without the annoyance of flies bothering you.