On Sunday evening I realised that my follow-up appointment with the immunologist was on the next day - is it a good sign when you space out the days with the expert?

R was all cool efficiency and got me there in no time despite all the traffic and the detours due to road works everywhere. 

It has been six months since we met and Dr B was all smiles. She is now blond, which makes her look even more like a Heidi. I proudly presented my latest lab results with the almost back to normal liver values and she liked that. But still. She dished out the hard facts with a smile: This is all good but don't fool yourself, there is no straight road to better and better. Be glad it's that good at the moment and I think you should have more rest.

More rest, as in don't do so much.

And then we talked about shoes and walking and I showed her my slowly deforming big toe joint and she told me that it sounds much more dramatic when I refer to it as the metatarsophalangeal joint and we had a good laugh not only because deformed toe joints are not related to having an autoimmune disease and who knows, maybe one day I will opt for surgery if only for the relief of having something removed and out and away with it. 

And then we talked about her breast implants and her nipple tattoos and that it will be five years now since her breast cancer surgery and we were quits. And she hugged me and I hugged her and on the way home I fell asleep in the car and in my dream I quietly chucked plan B out of the car window.