Numbers.

Today is a little odd. Its always a little odd the day after my infusion, it takes a day or so for my blood to settle down. I know that sounds weird, but I can actually feel the change taking place, as the Tysabri soldiers line up, and prepare to repel the MS attack force for another month.  This infusion was my 36th. I consulted my twelve times table. 3 years, bugger me 3 years! I felt it more keenly as I had my blood drawn at the same time, to check if things had got a bit dicey, and the I would have to stop.
I felt like a wanderer in the pharmaceutical wilderness, a lone traveler, going to where most had never been. This lasted for 5 minutes, until I found out that there was someone else in the infusion suite whose count was 92. 92? fuck me, that's amazing!

Station.

Today I find myself back at infusion station. The last few weeks have been a total hoot. I love going back to England, and spending time with people who I have known forever. Every time I go back I have a moment where I think, "We could come back here, right? " I can't see doing it right now, but it is a nice thought. The current mode of flying in, having loads of fun, and bouncing out before I irritate too many people is working just fine.
So, Infusion Station. Here I am a year ahead of the time that was predicted I could safely do the infusion, before things got really dangerous. I do not know how much longer this can carry on jacking in the dragon blood. I'm aware that I may have written this before. I'm also aware that the medical people, others with MS, everybody really, looks at me and wonders, "26 years with MS? Really? Thats not how it is supposed to go."
I know. I know exactly how it was supposed to go. I'm very happy to keep on getting it wrong.

Journeyed.

The plane from England was crap, but the people working on it were great. its the bizarre balance BA strikes.
A good flight back to Columbus yesterday, despite yogurt-geddon. I did decorate the floor of JFK with strawberry yogurt, much to the surprise of the lovely indian lady sitting opposite. My cry of "Fuck!" as the yogurt and the crumbles spread themselves out all over the floor was quickly retracted. Beth and I then ended up on our hands and knees trying to scoop it all up, with two napkins. Beth realized that this had no chance of working, and sent me back to the shop to get more. I arrived at the shop counter, less than 5 minutes after I'd left.
"What happened?," they asked.
"The airport floor is wearing my yogurt," I said, and left with more napkins.
I got back to Beth and handed her some of the napkins. The lady I'd just got them from was standing behind me. She handed me a new yogurt, and told me not to worry about the debris, as someone would deal with it. Not what I was expecting in JFK.
I go through airports now using wheelchair assistance, having finally admitted that I had no chance of making the flights without tuning up to the gate in a terrible state. It means that I see parts of airports others don't, and ride more lifts in an hour than I would usually do in a year.
Now back in Columbus, waiting for the effect of the last few weeks to kick in. It was well worth it, and I can't wait to do it again.

Last Night 2.

Well I did have a great dinner and I didn't get trashed. We did go to the pub, and it is 2:04am. 2 out  of .4. Not bad. Oh, and I am packed. Did I do my  own packing? Call it even. 2 and a half out of 5.

Last night.

Tonight is our last night before we fly back to America. It has been a fantastic trip, i got to see a lot of people that I wanted to. i've missed seeing a few, but we can sort that out next time.The trips indulgences caught up and  I got sick last night, with my body repeatedly yelling,
 "What the fuck have you been doing?!!"
"Well, Ive been having a great time. I didn't want to keep all that food down anyway."
Tomorrow we get to find out if British Airways is as shit as they were on our way here. I'm sure they've smartened themselves up a bit, right? Well, you can hope.
I now know I'd live in the countryside, or at the seaside. We didn't even go to London this trip, though I'm sure we'll go in next time, or the time after maybe…
So, a nice dinner out this evening, not getting too trashed, then a flight out tomorrow afternoon. This a great plan, though it hasn't worked out upto now….

Revelled.

The party started after we landed on July 11th. This is the first break I've had since then. The coast was great, Beth and I got to wander around Broadstairs and Ramsgate, then spend the evenings drinking in very nice local bars, getting nicely trashed, often with a good mate of mine Brody. Today we came back to Studham. Hugh visited and then we got a curry. Whilst eating the top nosh, the revels of last week started to sink in. Its the kind of tired that I knew was coming, but I thought it would have the good manners to give me a pass. Never mind, I wouldn't trade any of the last week. I'm always tired anyway, but  this time I know that I actually caused this one. Time for a snooze.

England.

We knew my dad's 70th birthday party was going to be on July 11th. British Airways did not get the memo, as they screwed up our flights, 3 times in a row. We got out of Columbus at 7am July 10th and landed in London at midnight. We arrived at my dad's at 1am.  and the party began setting up at 8am. The kid's part of the day started at 3 and the costume party started at 7pm. This should have been a nightmare. It was amazing.
Any party that starts kicking in at 8 am and I finish out with one of my best mates, chatting as the dawn breaks the following day, is a party indeed. It was a hoot.
I got to eat back in time. America does a lot of food fantastically well, but they cannot do a proper clotted cream jam scone. I was so pleased to get one, that I fact I bit into to it and ended up wearing it, didn't bother me at all. I saw it as a badge of honour. Yesterday we started out with sausage rolls, and ended on a curry, which America tries hard at, but misses.
The weather for the party was perfect, in fact it was a little confusing, Where's the rain? It had taken the day off, and has made up for its absence every hour since.
I'm so glad we made it back. I spent the day surrounded by friends and family, ate and drank as much as I could possibly take, and then got to sit under the marquee in the garden, chilling out for the next few days, whilst the rain came back to say hello.
Today we are off down the coast to stay at my mum's the next few days. Horror flight, great party and a  sojourn at the beach. Perfect. Nightmare flights more than a week away. Aah...

Weekended

Last Wednesday ended drunk in a bar. then a walk / stagger home to more drinking. Friday and Saturday were similar, but more focused. John and Kate came up from Illinois and we spent the weekend with food, fireworks, baseball and more booze. Sunday. USA 5 Japan 2. Then, we streamed the Grateful Dead's last gig ever from Soldiers Field. Top weekend. Monday, right?

The Spire

The house vibrates and echoes as the workers seek to remodel her. We've managed to time the installation of a new gas line with the arrival of a new water heater. More sound. To understand how much of a nightmare I think this is,I would recommend reading William Golding's The Spire. Actually, they are all very nice, which is worrying in its own way.