Happy birthday to me!

It's a beautiful sunny day, it's my birthday. How to spend it? We planned to get up, open cards and pressies in bed, have a sausage sandwich for breakfast (thanks go to Simon for the inspiration for that one), go out to Belton House with the kids for picnic and the biggest adventure playground in Lincolnshire (it truly is massive why was there nothing like that when we were kids?) then home for something extra special to eat without the kids, who wouldn't appreciate lamb steaks in a rosemary and port sauce. Fish fingers and bed for them.

The reality? On arrival at hospital yesterday to have my line out, something I've been looking forward to, I was feeling really ropey and quite nauseous. My temperature was taken and was 38.6, then tummy troubles started which kicked into action various things: blood cultures taken, stool samples and (almost) immediate IV antibiotics. This came at the end of a week where I seem to have suffered the longest lasting cold ever. Symptoms like headaches, chesty cough, runny nose, out of breath, etc, all the things you associate with a cold. But rather than having one day where it peaks and you finally have to admit you need a day in bed I've had that for days and days. So I thought nothing of it when I felt the same yesterday morning. But arriving at hospital so soon after transplant with signs of infection has meant staying in hospital for antibiotics, plus fluids until tummy troubles cease and possibly not being released till Sunday although I'm going to keep hassling everyone I can to let me out tomorrow. So my birthday breakfast was not a sausage sandwich but a bowl of ready brek, which I had every day during the transplant!

Luckily, as we're getting used to this sort of thing happening, there is always an overnight bag packed in the boot just in case. I was very thankful that I could be admitted yesterday and I was prepared with a change of clothes, pyjamas, a DVD player and a couple of DVDs and a book. But when I went to unpack my toiletries I found I had no toothbrush - but I did find I'd brought my comb! Lot of use that will be. Once again I can't fault the NHS who on hearing I had no toothbrush immediately provided me with one. Quite a good one too.

The nurses have to ask your date of birth before administering drugs so I have been wished happy birthday numerous times, but I took the decision that I did not want to celebrate until I'm out. So Jo is saving all cards and pressies till then. I don't know why but the idea of opening birthday cards in hospital, with a balloon tied to the commode seems a bit depressing. And unnecessary I'll be out in a day or two. Found out yesterday that it appears my 37 year old donor is Portuguese which is surprising. I don't know whether that means I'm part Portuguese, maybe this is the time to find out. When I've got my Portuguese marra I'll prioritise a visit to see if I feel at home. What do they eat in Portugal?