The dull ache under my left arm (in the same spot that I had the lump which turned out to be my cancer last time) developed over the weekend. These things always happen at the weekend? It woke me up both Saturday and Sunday morning. Although I'm not sure if I can feel any lumps I thought it was best to get myself off down to the outpatients ward this morning to get it checked out. Funny thing was that when I did get there this morning the feeling was nearly all but gone. 

Being me I managed to get a full nights dancing in at DT before I went. My God I'm paying for it now. My knees are sore and my feet are throbbing. P got stuck into me last night for being irresponsible, probably rightly too. Still its nothing a good nights sleep and a decent meal wont sort out. It's ten to nine and I just had a bowl of Cous-Cous and a Tuna steak and I'm tucked up in my pit between about ten pillows. 

The results of the scan should be back by the end of the week.  Maybe there is nothing to worry about. The thought of going through all that Chemotherapy shit again just fills me with dread. Hopefully I'm being a bit of a hypochondriac but there is so much familiarity in the pain that it is scaring the hell out of me. 

R the young Spanish boy I met at the sauna he other day has been on at me to come over and stay. The creeping feeling that I should tell him about my HIV status is beginning to get to me. Its that same old thing, when do I say? One part of me thinks that the longer I leave it the worse the surprise is going to be. The other part of me thinks that so long as I'm safe it really isn't the end of the world if I keep quiet. I'm sure that I will sort it out in my own time. The fact that my night last night was like a slag-fest is quite another matter. DT and I had a little reunion in Vauxhall up on the hills. Made the acquaintance of a very charming little 19 year old called John K there too, and the club offered up a couple of sweaty G fueled encounters with various Brazilian hookers too. Feeling suitably dirty and sullied now. That is the sign of a good night out after all? 

Mum an Dad came up for lunch on Sunday. We went to the Formosa Street Dinning rooms in Maida Vale. The food was fantastic and really good value but my the service was sullen. It ended up being a bit of a struggle on account of the amount of K I had munched the night before and that morning walking round Primrose Hill with CG and D. Still it wasn't quite the car wreck it could have been..