Yesterday I finally gave into the weather and bought a skirt and some shoes for work. I've worn my uniform trousers up to now for two reasons. The trousers cover my skinny little legs and make me look larger than I am. And secondly because I never show my legs, when I wear a skirt is is floor length. I wear shorts around the house but never outside.
I decided to go budget end as I will probably be wearing them for a couple of weeks at best. I found a nice little pencil skirt which, at size ten, is just a little too big but means the waist band doesn't cut in when I sit down, and a pair of black ballet pumps. I tried them on when I got home, I don't do communal changing rooms either, and was rather pleased with the result. Being a shortie the skirt comes just below the knee and the shoes make my feet look delicate, a miracle in itself.
However between skirt and shoes were the two skinniest, whitest matchsticks you will ever see. Never having really scrutinised my legs before I was horrified. There is nothing I can do about the shape, or the hidious veins sticking out of the top of my feet, that comes with the PH and the meds, but there was something I could do about the colour. Fake tan! Now before we go any further I have to explain something. Because of the meds I'm on I am not allowed to sunbathe. In fact the sun could really do me some damage so I either have to cover up outside or cover myself in factor 50, hence the pale skin. The times I've ignored the advice I've emerged looking akin to a dalmatian, lots of dark spot but no overall tan. As a result I've just covered up and forgotten about my legs for near enough five years.
So yesterday out came the hair removal cream, I'm not allowed to wax or shave for fear of infection. That horrible task done and dusted I went in search of some fake tan. I took Andrew with me for some moral support, no I have never bought fake tan before, and we scoured Boots looking for something that was easy to apply, didn't stink to much and didn't look too orange. Andrew happily tried a few on his arms until I pointed out he would wake up with brown patches. A panicked going over with a wet wipe ensued and then it was back to business. In the end I chose a mousse that not only developed over two or three hours but also gave instant colour so you could see where you were putting it.
Back home I read the instructions twice and then decided to leave things overnight in case the bronzer reacted with the hair remover. Knowing my luck they would and I'd end up in A&E with peeling skin or something. So this morning I hopped in the shower and used a scrub on my legs to ensure they were void of anything that could upset the bronzer.
So the time had come. There was no going back now, it was bronzer or embarrassment, well actually it could still be embarrassment if I got this wrong but I'll tackle that one if it happens. First up was how to put the stuff on without getting browm palms, a dead give away and a look favoured by some teenage girls I saw in town yesterday. I didn't want that so out came the medical gloves. I read the instructions again, gave the can a good shake and squirted a golf ball sized puff of mousse onto my hand. Oh my God, it was so dark. I almost stopped there but decided to give it a go and started rubbing it into my skin. After about two minutes of rubbing and smoothing I ended up with a golden brown leg and not one streak, this is more like it. Encouraged I did the other leg and ended up with the same result. I wandered around in my underwear for half and hour until I was convinced it had really dried and then slipped on a pair of baggy joggers just in case any comes off on the furniture. Result! Of course, what it will look like once the tan has developed I don't know but I'm hoping it will be just as nice.
So crisis averted I feel I can show my legs off tomorrow with a modicum of confidence.
Today I'm feeling a bit reflective. It is seven months since I was put on the list at Papworth and still no sniff of a match. Not even a false alarm. I know false alarms are upsetting and a big waste of everyone's time but at least they are definitive proof that you are on the list. Sometimes the months of not hearing anything can make you doubt. Still on the positive side I'm getting closer to the the window of nine to eighteen months I was given when put on the list. If it did come early that would be an incredible bonus but in my heart I know I'm in for the long haul. Damn it!
The weather is still overcast and much cooler than it has been. This is a mixed blessing. It has given my breathing a bit of a respite but has meant I've spent my weekend indoors. Tomorrow the temperatures are supposed to go rocketing up to 30c or higher. I just wish it would rain, just briefly so that the grass can turn green again. It's a bit like the Sahara looking out of my kitchen window at the moment. Nothing but brown. The cooler weather has helped the old eating plan though and yesterday, not only did I put away a huge plate of pasta, but I indulged in a bagel smothered in cream cheese for tea.Yum! Yum! I just wish I could eat this stuff when it's hot. My ankles and stomach have shrunk a bit too so I'm not retaining so much water. And finally I'm having unbroken sleep. Sometimes it is good to have a blip.
In the news I was sad to hear of the death of Mel Smith who passed away from a heart attack yesterday. He was only sixty. I was a great fan of Not The Nine O'clock New and Alas Smith And Jones, I just wished they'd made more of them.
The ironing awaits and then it is all hands on deck to ensure Andrew hasn't forgotten anything before he heads back to uni this evening for his second week at hospital. Having had such a good week previously he is much more relaxed this time round, thank goodness.
I would say next blog Wednesday but if it is really hot I just don't feel like sitting in a hot study straight after work. So maybe next blog on Wednesday but far more likely Friday.
I decided to go budget end as I will probably be wearing them for a couple of weeks at best. I found a nice little pencil skirt which, at size ten, is just a little too big but means the waist band doesn't cut in when I sit down, and a pair of black ballet pumps. I tried them on when I got home, I don't do communal changing rooms either, and was rather pleased with the result. Being a shortie the skirt comes just below the knee and the shoes make my feet look delicate, a miracle in itself.
However between skirt and shoes were the two skinniest, whitest matchsticks you will ever see. Never having really scrutinised my legs before I was horrified. There is nothing I can do about the shape, or the hidious veins sticking out of the top of my feet, that comes with the PH and the meds, but there was something I could do about the colour. Fake tan! Now before we go any further I have to explain something. Because of the meds I'm on I am not allowed to sunbathe. In fact the sun could really do me some damage so I either have to cover up outside or cover myself in factor 50, hence the pale skin. The times I've ignored the advice I've emerged looking akin to a dalmatian, lots of dark spot but no overall tan. As a result I've just covered up and forgotten about my legs for near enough five years.
So yesterday out came the hair removal cream, I'm not allowed to wax or shave for fear of infection. That horrible task done and dusted I went in search of some fake tan. I took Andrew with me for some moral support, no I have never bought fake tan before, and we scoured Boots looking for something that was easy to apply, didn't stink to much and didn't look too orange. Andrew happily tried a few on his arms until I pointed out he would wake up with brown patches. A panicked going over with a wet wipe ensued and then it was back to business. In the end I chose a mousse that not only developed over two or three hours but also gave instant colour so you could see where you were putting it.
Back home I read the instructions twice and then decided to leave things overnight in case the bronzer reacted with the hair remover. Knowing my luck they would and I'd end up in A&E with peeling skin or something. So this morning I hopped in the shower and used a scrub on my legs to ensure they were void of anything that could upset the bronzer.
So the time had come. There was no going back now, it was bronzer or embarrassment, well actually it could still be embarrassment if I got this wrong but I'll tackle that one if it happens. First up was how to put the stuff on without getting browm palms, a dead give away and a look favoured by some teenage girls I saw in town yesterday. I didn't want that so out came the medical gloves. I read the instructions again, gave the can a good shake and squirted a golf ball sized puff of mousse onto my hand. Oh my God, it was so dark. I almost stopped there but decided to give it a go and started rubbing it into my skin. After about two minutes of rubbing and smoothing I ended up with a golden brown leg and not one streak, this is more like it. Encouraged I did the other leg and ended up with the same result. I wandered around in my underwear for half and hour until I was convinced it had really dried and then slipped on a pair of baggy joggers just in case any comes off on the furniture. Result! Of course, what it will look like once the tan has developed I don't know but I'm hoping it will be just as nice.
So crisis averted I feel I can show my legs off tomorrow with a modicum of confidence.
Today I'm feeling a bit reflective. It is seven months since I was put on the list at Papworth and still no sniff of a match. Not even a false alarm. I know false alarms are upsetting and a big waste of everyone's time but at least they are definitive proof that you are on the list. Sometimes the months of not hearing anything can make you doubt. Still on the positive side I'm getting closer to the the window of nine to eighteen months I was given when put on the list. If it did come early that would be an incredible bonus but in my heart I know I'm in for the long haul. Damn it!
The weather is still overcast and much cooler than it has been. This is a mixed blessing. It has given my breathing a bit of a respite but has meant I've spent my weekend indoors. Tomorrow the temperatures are supposed to go rocketing up to 30c or higher. I just wish it would rain, just briefly so that the grass can turn green again. It's a bit like the Sahara looking out of my kitchen window at the moment. Nothing but brown. The cooler weather has helped the old eating plan though and yesterday, not only did I put away a huge plate of pasta, but I indulged in a bagel smothered in cream cheese for tea.Yum! Yum! I just wish I could eat this stuff when it's hot. My ankles and stomach have shrunk a bit too so I'm not retaining so much water. And finally I'm having unbroken sleep. Sometimes it is good to have a blip.
In the news I was sad to hear of the death of Mel Smith who passed away from a heart attack yesterday. He was only sixty. I was a great fan of Not The Nine O'clock New and Alas Smith And Jones, I just wished they'd made more of them.
The ironing awaits and then it is all hands on deck to ensure Andrew hasn't forgotten anything before he heads back to uni this evening for his second week at hospital. Having had such a good week previously he is much more relaxed this time round, thank goodness.
I would say next blog Wednesday but if it is really hot I just don't feel like sitting in a hot study straight after work. So maybe next blog on Wednesday but far more likely Friday.
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