Fasting blood tests came and went without a minimum of fuss and hysterical screaming. And so this is the last set of tests I will be having before the Christmas period d- not that I’ve had a lot on the run up – on the contrary. I think they’ve forgotten about me. Maybe they found out that I don’t have HIV after all and they just don’t want to tell me. Wishful thinking, I guess – but I thought we agreed I was past that stage? Never mind, eh?
So all I’m left with now is the usual malaise of being back in this shithole after spending a fantastic five days at my boyfriend’s house. I had a really good time, in all honesty, we ate a lot, we drank a lot, and I even managed to get a modicum of work done. Now, if only we could convince him to move here, I might actually end up living somewhere with more charm than Beirut. But, anyway, I’m home. I’ve spent my day nursing a headache and a stiff neck (that mysteriously materialised following a ‘flu vaccination – I’ll take the Vegas odds on that one), and wandering around the library picking up one or two books on colorectal cancer. Because that’s what I like to do in my free time.
Maybe we’re harking back to a previous entry a little much, but I’d like to point out that I had the least competent needle-nurse available in the shops today. Bent immunisation needle, she couldn’t find a vein. I’ve come back to this place with a lot more holes than I set off with. But lo, I shall keep you updated over the Christmas period if it transpires that my internet connection still works there. I’m on tenterhooks.
PosLife.