Whinge. Whinge. Whinge.

The title of this post is in Shrinky's honour. It could just as easily be whine, whine, whine. Yes, it's Wednesday, and if I'm in the mood for a whine I should go over to Phantom's place. But, hell, I'm gonna whine here. You know, it's my party and I'll whine if I want to...

Actually, I'm more than a little worried that my blog has been little more than a whine-fest of late. I've even avoided blogging at times because the only things that have been occupying my mind are my move-from-hell and my ongoing health sagas. I'm pig sick of both of these situations, and am desperate to blog (and think) about something else, but given that I'm still in pain and still trying to sell my damn house, it just ain't gonna happen...

Anyone still reading this post deserves a medal. You guys have been with me so much recently, and I really can't thank you enough for sticking with it. You're absolutely, totally and utterly the best, and I'm sorry I've been a bit lame at reading and commenting recently.

And so, here we have the next instalment of Pink Cupcake's dramas...

House-wise we're back on the market. We're cleaning like nutters. We're probably going to lose the flat. Yawn. Yawn. Yawn. Whatever.

My main gripe right now isn't with the house (except it hurts like heck to clean right now, and it's not fair for LLH to do everything when he's working long hours), but with my leg. My leg pain has been really bad for the past week or so, and the pain seems to be moving elsewhere around my body too (ribs, back etc. etc.). Plus, my leg has swollen pretty badly in a couple of places, and I'm just sick of feeling sick. So I decided I had to see a doctor again. Only problem, my doctor is on vacation, and I wasn't really feeling up to the 8-hour round trip to see her in OUE City anyway. Fortunately, my Mum, who is a pillar of the local community here in Sleepy Boringland, managed to blag me into an appointment with a local doc. So, I merrily went along to an appointment expecting him to say I had yet more weird muscular swellings. But. No. He totally freaked me out.

You know it's bad when the doctor says that he doesn't want you to panic before he tells you his prognosis, right? When he says you need to go to the hospital tomorrow morning (especially in this country where you have to wait months to get even the slightest whiff of a hospital)? Actually he said I should really have gone to hospital today, but that at 4.30pm I wouldn't get there in time to see the relevant doctors. He's worried that I might have Deep Vein Thrombosis (blood clots). That hadn't even occurred to me. I have to have an ultrasound scan in the morning and then take it from there. It's apparently totally treatable (although unpleasant) if that's what the problem is, the big danger is if you don't get it checked out in time and the clot moves or something. I'm just hoping that (if that's what I've got) it'll stay still for the next twelve hours. Of course, if I don't have DVT we're back to the drawing board, but apparently we'll have ruled the worst thing out. I really hope so.

So, yeah, I really, really hope this blog will be full of happy, jolly posts very, very soon, but in the meantime I'm afraid you're stuck with the whinging of a scared little cupcake...