Aunty C and the BBC

I got up today early because Claire from the BBC at White City, London, was coming to chat about a documentary they are making on transplant patients.

They want to follow several patients, needing different transplants and do before, and after comparisons, see how their lives pan out and probably film the actual operation.

My Auntie C came to visit - a larger than life lady. Poor reporter girl hadn't met anyone like Auntie C before I don't think....I think she would be reality TV Star.

(And no Rebecca I won't be eating grubs in the jungle next year with Ant 'n Dec!)

Claire was delayed and brought some sweets as an apology, how sweet is that?

I think she did remarkably well to find the house, 'us living in the sticks an' all' and with all the windy -is windy (turning) and windy (blowy the same spelling?)- lanes.

Anyway…as we chatted I realised how much I miss the day-to-day journalism. I loved the feeling on not knowing what would be happening and who I would be meeting.

She didn’t know, as most people don't, that I can’t claim INCAPACITY BENEFIT or JOB SEEKERS ALLOWANCE and wont be able to even when I have had my transplant.

This is because I was out of the country for two years immediately prior to being ill and therefore the Government cancelled my national insurance payments and I will have to work for two years before I will be entitled to IB or JSA.

If I had come over illegally from another country I would get a lot more....(hmmm Perhaps I should change my name to Muhammed Imran Islam and say I am from Iran?!)

Work that one out Mr Blair.

This is why I have no time for incapacity scroungers..but that’s a previous blog!

It's things like this that niggle me at the moment. I get a lot of thinking time, perhaps too much. We were talking about how being on a transplant list effects relationship.

The dynamics of my relationships with friends have changed. I can’t go and meet them at the oub for example without planning and getting a lift with my oxygen cylinders.

I can’t go to visit people for weekends, or go farther than 30 minutes away, because of getting back to the house if I get the call. It is SO MUCH more convenient getting picked up by the ambulance from home when I get 'the call', where I will have my gear with me.

But as I used to be the organiser or nights out and meet ups I am now at the whim of others, totally. I don’t want people to feel that they ‘ought’ to visit me.

Anyway. I digress, Claire is going to be in contact regarding the TV thing. I am really keen to do it and have already sounded out friends and family to be interviewed.

I went to Lichfield this afternoon. My mum had to do some shopping. I am really tied to where she goes and what she does. She is very accommodating, but it is frustrating…I brought up a lot of stuff up from my lungs when I hit the cold air getting out of the car. The East wind didn’t help.

I bought some magazines and chilled out at a great café I know where I can get a decent ginger and green tea and people watch.

It was Comic Relief Night, but I don’t like those shows anymore. I want to be in a pub having fun, rather than watching with a cup of tea, picking away at my bass in my room.

I was exhausted by the time of my evening nebulisers and physiotherapy. People don’t realise how draining just getting by is at the moment.

I was on the front page of the Burntwood edition of the local free paper The Post and the sweet paper girl gave me an extra copy. (Bless her cotton socks!)

*Oh yes (1)‘Best Mate’ (a famous racehorse) had the same problem with burst aritaries that brought me a bit nearer to meeting my maker in January. (Bless his metal hooves?)

Oh yes (2)..this is a funny link to Michael Jackson erm.... 'song' lol
http://frontsteps.com/creations/1001/139/index.php?t=1110379552