Life in a onesie

This is one of those blog posts where I apologise for not having much to say, but still go and write it. So, I don't have much to say. Sorry! I've been living under the radar, where it seems all combinations of tedious bugs, bacteria, colds, coughs, liver troubles and hypos can't find me. I've been steady for quite a while which even though dull and doesn't make for a good blog post, suits me just fine. More than fine. My stealth manoeuvres (which mainly consist of moving from bed to the sofa to the fridge and back again wearing a fetching leopard onesie) may not lead for the most exciting of lives, but a trouble free existence. That's all I want right now. An existence suits me just fine; Life can resume when Dr Frankenstein has worked his magic. I still call a fridge raid and shuffling round the house a 'stealth manoeuvre'  to inject some excitement into the banal... and queue Mission Impossible theme. Little pleasures.

I've had no calls, not even false alarms. I do feel a little forgotten about in momentary flashes of woe, but transplants are not something you take personally. These moments sometimes extend into reflective and contemplative episodes, where the enormity of it all and that rare pang of fear jumps in and surprises me. I don't get it often - excitement swirled with a christmas eve-type of anticipation tends to be the overriding feeling. Mixed into this concoction comes the frustration. Not just frustration at these months of waiting, but at how house-tied I am because of how I feel, and how I look. It's tiring and draining physically and mentally. If i'm being honest I think it's more mentally at the moment. I'm probably looking 9 months pregnant now, and you can't hide a bump that big. Trust me, i've tried! It sends me into a dark downward spiral, that before I was put on the list, I could hardly clamber up out of. Like Alice drowning in her tears in a similarly hypo-ish Wonderland. Since i've been on the list that sinking feeling doesn't swoop down on me quite so intensely as before, because now I now that it won't be like this forever. But until then, it's still easier to melt back into a onesie and a duvet and hide myself away from the world. When I sleep 13 hours (plus naps!), that's not too hard really...