Sarah Rules

April is usually the awesomest month for me.  This year it was going to be awesomer because I WAS TURNING 21.  Despite not meaning much anymore, 21 is a big milestone that one must celebrate copiously.

I started by having an early celebration in Essex seeing as I was to be in the Burg for my actual birthday.  Sarah, Sarah and I went BOATING like how you used to in olden times when going on the boats in Castle Park and managing to get an ice cream at the end made the day an official success.  Here I am captaining my ship.

The B stands for Birthday.

We then saw Step Up 2: The Streets (seriously recommendable) and then we had a Sarahs and Mothers bingo night (Amy played the part of Sarah H’s mother).  Sarah and Amy completely cleaned up and came away with somewhere around £356,566.97 between them.  I won nothing.  Despite it being my pretend birthday and concentrating so hard that I had to stick my tongue out.

So hooray, I had a lovely Essex 21st birthday.  Now for a KERAZY Burg birthday right? Wrong.

If you’ve seen me in past weeks it’s likely you’ve looked at me and asked me if I’m ok because apparently my eyes looked weird.  I will have then said yes and potentially made you feel the glands in my neck because they were the size and hardness of cricket balls.  Well anyway, apparently these things weren’t a good sign and I started getting iller and iller.

I went to the doctors who tried to steal my blood.  My arm cleverly didn’t allow any to be taken.  I went back because apparently being the 1,000,000,000th customer I’d won a prize but it was all a trick to try and steal my blood again and on this second time they succeeded.  They were going to test it for Glandular Fever.

Anyway, a couple of days later, on the 16th April (2 days before birthday o’clock) the parents and Amy came up to visit for birthday shenanigans.  They came into my room, looked at me and made me go to the doctors.  The doctor then promptly sent to me hospital.

So I’m in the hospital.  They’ve stuck a permanent hole in my arm and are now putting anti-biotics into me.  They called them anti-biotics when really they are anti-notexperiencingtheworstpainI’veeverfeltinthewhleofmylife.  Three times, for three hours I had to have this horrible experience.  Each time trying to keep my mind off them by doing Arrow Words.  Which normally I love.  But now hate.  More that anything.  They also put saline in me which was the lovliest thing I’ve ever had.  I was considering asking for more but I don’t think hospitals work like bars, I don’t think you can order like that.

So on the 17th April (<24 hours until birthday loveliness) the doctor did her rounds, shone a torch down my throat and without skipping a beat told me I had to be in at least another night.  That’s right.  I would wake up on my birthday in hospital.  I had not planned on having a medical themed birthday.  It wasn’t fun.

Luckily the family were up so I had someone obliged to come and visit me and then look after me when I left on the 18th despite my being so high on drugs that I decided I hated our taxi driver even though he had said nothing to us all journey.  I think he didn’t use the bus lanes when he could have done or something.  There was logic to it at the time.

Anyway, after being bed bound for a week or so and having to miss some exams I am now walking around and better save for needing to sleep all of the time.  The hospital said I had severe tonsilitis and the doctors said I’d had glandular fever for the past month so goodness knows what it actually was.  It’s not here now though.  So that’s nice.

So, a 21st birthday I definitely wont forget.  I’m going to have a second birthday after exams.  This year I will have had two pretend birthdays and one real but pants one.

Also I dyed my hair yesterday.  I’ve washed it since and already it’s not as bright as it was sigh.  I took this whilst revising in the kitchen.  That’s why it also stars everyone’s favourite: Terry the toaster.  It’s not myspace posey, I am leaning like that so that you can see my hair, the whole point of the photo.  Don’t get clever.