As far as anniversaries go, I'm underwhelmed by this one
I just came back from my infusion at the hospital. I'm waiting for shogunhb to finish up a few things in the lab and then he will drive me home where I will sleep the sleep of the dead all day.
Well, until bedtime. Then I will wake up. *sigh*
Anyway, I'm about a month and a half away from my "One Year Without Being Hospitalized!" anniversary. As the title of the post says, I'm underwhelmed. I'm not saying this isn't a good anniversary, cause I like not being in the hospital for extended periods of time, but the fact that this is an anniversary at all makes me 'Grr Arg' a bit.
I am sick. I will always be sick for a value of always that includes 'unless and until someone finds a cure.' Even now, with my treatments and my illness being under control, it affects my life. This is incredibly frustrating. I mean, yeah it's worlds better than how it was affecting my life before the Remicaide treatments started, but still. Every morning I down a handful of pills. Some of them help keep me healthy. Others, like the Welbutrin, I take in order to minimize the side effects from the other meds and such. Every seven weeks, I spend an afternoon in a chair, getting an infusion of rat proteins. I will do this for the rest of my life.
It's one thing to think 'for the rest of my life' in the context of being married to shogunhb or being best friends with ddrpolaris. It's another thing entirely to think of it in the context of something I will be dealing with (and not always gracefully, as one can see in this post) for that length of time.
Just another reason for me to be terrified of the Zombocalypse.
I can no longer donate blood. I can not be a bone marrow donor. I cannot even donate my organs* once I die. It's thinking about things like that that really hammers it home. I am sick. My blood and bone marrow and organs are unfit for other humans.
This doesn't really make me sad. It just pisses me off.
Rawr. I am too sleepy to make much coherent sense. And it's time to go. Perhaps another day, I will post a long, thoughtful essay on my condition and how it has affected me and how great it is now that I'm better. Because I am better. But right now, I'm grumpy, my hand hurts from the infusion, and I don't wanna act like a mature and rational adult. So nyah.
*I am aware I can still donate my body to scientific and medical research. This is my intention.
Well, until bedtime. Then I will wake up. *sigh*
Anyway, I'm about a month and a half away from my "One Year Without Being Hospitalized!" anniversary. As the title of the post says, I'm underwhelmed. I'm not saying this isn't a good anniversary, cause I like not being in the hospital for extended periods of time, but the fact that this is an anniversary at all makes me 'Grr Arg' a bit.
I am sick. I will always be sick for a value of always that includes 'unless and until someone finds a cure.' Even now, with my treatments and my illness being under control, it affects my life. This is incredibly frustrating. I mean, yeah it's worlds better than how it was affecting my life before the Remicaide treatments started, but still. Every morning I down a handful of pills. Some of them help keep me healthy. Others, like the Welbutrin, I take in order to minimize the side effects from the other meds and such. Every seven weeks, I spend an afternoon in a chair, getting an infusion of rat proteins. I will do this for the rest of my life.
It's one thing to think 'for the rest of my life' in the context of being married to shogunhb or being best friends with ddrpolaris. It's another thing entirely to think of it in the context of something I will be dealing with (and not always gracefully, as one can see in this post) for that length of time.
Just another reason for me to be terrified of the Zombocalypse.
I can no longer donate blood. I can not be a bone marrow donor. I cannot even donate my organs* once I die. It's thinking about things like that that really hammers it home. I am sick. My blood and bone marrow and organs are unfit for other humans.
This doesn't really make me sad. It just pisses me off.
Rawr. I am too sleepy to make much coherent sense. And it's time to go. Perhaps another day, I will post a long, thoughtful essay on my condition and how it has affected me and how great it is now that I'm better. Because I am better. But right now, I'm grumpy, my hand hurts from the infusion, and I don't wanna act like a mature and rational adult. So nyah.
*I am aware I can still donate my body to scientific and medical research. This is my intention.