Story Of A Broken Toe

As many of you might have noticed already, it's been over four weeks since my last post. I promised when I started this blog that I would update it weekly and that, overall, I would take good care of it. However, I didn't take into account how exhausting my treatment would be when coupled with unforeseen complications [more on this in a bit] and the last few weeks have just proven to be a bit too much for me and I didn't feel like updating the blog at all. I even considered scrapping the whole thing a week ago when, after falling victim to an over-sensitised feeling of ennui, I felt that there really was no point in maintaining this blog since only a couple of people seemed to be really interested in it, noticing the unnatural lack of updating. Self-pity is not one of my favourite traits, hence that wasn't one of my proudest moments it must be said! Now, having remembered that this blog wasn't set up for the masses but for those people interested in knowing how this silly boy is doing, collecting useful info in a nice friendly way and for me to be able to chronicle this year of my life, I found my fingers itchy at work, desperate to write a new post for the blog.

So, I suppose I should start by explaining what gave rise to this period of over-the-top melancholy and like all good stories, it starts with a broken bone*! The day after my last post, on a rare mid-week night out, I broke a toe. It was a dramatic break too. Blood everywhere, toenails hanging by quite literally just a thread and the sort. The incident itself is a story that, for the purposes of this blog, is too long and not-wholly-relevant so it won't be included here, but you can read about it if you want to by clicking 'A Tale Of Toe Cities'.

So, after spending a good 3 hours in A & E ['Emergency Room' for those reading outside Britain] that night, feeling quite a lot of pain, stressing over blood spillages [see 'A Tale Of Toe Cities'] and getting home after 4am in the morning, I took stock of the situation and it wasn't good. I had to have a whole week of antibiotics [on top of my interferon treatment], limp all over the place [exerting even more effort on an already-exhausted body] and come to the realisation that, in spite of acting like nothing was happening in my life, I needed to be more careful with my health. It was a very tiring experience overall. I guess I'm only saying all this to try and trick you into liking me and overlook the fact that, through my own stupidity, I put my body through a lot of unnecessary strain.

I won't keep going on about broken toes anymore but instead I'll do what this blog is supposed to do and tell you how my Hep treatment is going. I'm still very tired but I've accepted that this might be the case for the next 40 weeks [Can you believe I've already gone through 8 weeks of treatment?] so I'm finding ways to just get used to it. I'm about to start going to the gym, playing football again and get on with my writing [i.e. Start writing!]. In short, just assimilate tiredness into my life and get on with it. Probably easier said than done but I guess we'll find out.

Apart from that and the bout of melancholy [already discussed at length! I promise I'll stop now] everything else is going fine. So, I'm pretty happy still and trying to stay as positive as possible.
Just to reiterate that I haven't forgotten about the blog, I will post a few interesting links I've come across over the last three weeks in the next few days.

And, finally, no matter what, I'll be posting next week without fail. So, welcome back and drop me a line if you want to!

*Disclaimer: I know of no great stories that start with broken bones!