When one door closes...and all that garbage

I don't like cliches-I think most people get fed up with them. I really, really "like" the one that goes: when one door closes, another one opens. Yeah, right? Usually, when one door closes, it does so with such force that it either smacks you in the face or belts you in the ass. But-in this case, I am mistaken.

I got the old door slamming in the backside two weeks ago-as you know-and I was only annoyed at the disgraceful way it was done-and, of course, the fact that I wasn't the first one to say I'm going. And I have given the three cripplers and the petulant overgrown baby two weeks of my time-and that is two weeks more than they are worth. Actually, two seconds would be more than they are worth. I'm just about ready for the video update, now that I am no longer a YouTube virgin...and I have written to everyone I know to ask them to see the video and to check out this blog. So-I've nearly done all I can. Now I just have to sit back and watch the fertilizer hit the fan (yippee).

I said that a door opens when one closes-and my door opened in record time. I was able to organize the immunoglobulin (actually, the credit goes to John, my now ex-nurse), I organized everything I needed to do for the surgery (which is in two week countdown now, so I only have a few days to change my mind!).

Two weeks ago my GP referred me to the immunology team at the same hospital that is "hosting" my reconstruction. To their credit, the team pulled out all the stops and sent me an appointment for -this morning. After a forty-five minute appointment, I realized that I am in the right place. The new immunologist is terrific: friendly, competent, organized, grown up (got that, Goofy?), and I now have appointments for my infusions, as well as everything in readiness for the surgery in two weeks.

Now I am kicking myself because I wish I had jumped ship years ago. I couldn't stand up, so I couldn't jump anything anywhere. And when I was finally able to walk a bit without falling over, I discovered I had breast cancer. Hmmm...it has been a really awful five years. Only now I feel like that door being slammed in my backside was a blessing, because I could't keep procrastinating.

It has been a really valuable two week period-and, for the first time in five years, I feel reasonably safe to go into the hospital. I did say "reasonably safe"-the jury will be out until the surgery is over, and believe me when I say that when I come around from the anesthesia, I will be checking for my kidneys.

I'm not quitting the fight, either. When the pathetic four find that everything they say and everything they do is under intense scrutiny, and they have no choice but to wake up and either learn how to behave or go and flip burgers in McDonald's, then I will have done my job. Then I will start on something (or someone) else. If I'm not fighting for a cause - I get bored...