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Apr. 5th, 2006 07:47 pmToday is better than yesterday.
That's not saying much, but there it is.
My monthly rheumatology visit was yesterday afternoon, and the results weren't exactly 'cabbit friendly'. The normal list of joint aches were gone over, and then I was asked to shed shoes and stockings so the skin issues on my feet could be checked. Debbie (RCNP, whom I greatly prefer to the chief doctor in the office; she knows nearly as much and is FAR more personable) frowned at the swollen ankles, then had me strip to underwear. Knees, left hip, right shoulder, my NECK and SPINE... all swollen and in similar condition. Which explains why I was having issues with turning my head or using the right arm; I'd just written it off as me being old and creaky with complications from the FMS. Blotches on the tops of my feet. Aggressive patches of almost-looks-like-the-psoriasis-on-my-hands in my scalp, elbows, and feet (the mentioned skin issues). More frowns, then consults with the chief doc and the other rheumatology specialist on staff.
If you've never experienced the sensation of being a particularly fascinating microbe discovered by a budding scientist... well, that's where I was. And then they started talking about shots and infusions and I nearly went hysterical right there. Needles and I (Debbie not withstanding; her surname is 'Needle') do NOT get along - more specifically, they're one of the surest triggers of fight or flight reactions in me. I think my panicky squeak reminded the trio of medico's that I was there, and things were yammered at me. I fished out a pen and a paper scrap and asked for a repeat, and scribbled things down. 'Psoriatic Arthritis in full flare', 'vasculitis', and a half dozen potential treatments... all of which seemed to be via injection.
Great. Just fscking skippy. Check, please!
I was bundled off to the lab, given a lollipop (I felt about three years old), and squeezed my eyes shot for the medtech taking the blood samples. The pattern was repeated for an injection. I bit the lolli in half on that one, and startled the tech... which didn't help improve the experience. Told to go home and try and rest, that I should be okay the following morning. Came back to the apartment and passed out for almost six hours. The mood crash hit like a brick when I woke up.
Rowan grabbed me by the ears and hauled me back from the brink of a full meltdown last night. I don't think she realizes how much she means to me; she's one of the very very few that can successfully derail my mind into something pleasant. Where she finds the strength to deal with a quasi-psychotic nutbag like me is a mystery... or magic. It's one of those things I try not to poke at or try to understand, because I'm afraid I'll logic loop it out of existence. Which will make no sense at all unless you're a fan of Oolon Colluphid, but anyway...
I'm a bit more in control today. Yesterday it felt like my world was crashing in on me again; today ... today it's just 'whatever, it doesn't change anything but the name of the pain' and life lurches on. It's annoying, to say the least, mainly because knowing what it is doesn't tell me 'why' or 'how long' - to my mind they're far more important, you know? I wish I'd known ahead of time that the shot they gave me yesterday was gonna zonk me out; I got sent home from work early today because I looked like I was about to fall over... when I was sitting down. I crawled back into bed upon arival, and was out for another five hours. Hopefully tomorrow will be a bit less hazed.
Which leaves me with a question to ask. I know that some of the folks who read me (or pretend to) have some health issues; does anyone have any experience with Remicade via infusion? I'd really like to have some advance notice if it's gonna do what the stuff they shot with with yesterday did.
Anyone?
Bueller?
That's not saying much, but there it is.
My monthly rheumatology visit was yesterday afternoon, and the results weren't exactly 'cabbit friendly'. The normal list of joint aches were gone over, and then I was asked to shed shoes and stockings so the skin issues on my feet could be checked. Debbie (RCNP, whom I greatly prefer to the chief doctor in the office; she knows nearly as much and is FAR more personable) frowned at the swollen ankles, then had me strip to underwear. Knees, left hip, right shoulder, my NECK and SPINE... all swollen and in similar condition. Which explains why I was having issues with turning my head or using the right arm; I'd just written it off as me being old and creaky with complications from the FMS. Blotches on the tops of my feet. Aggressive patches of almost-looks-like-the-psoriasis-on-my-hands in my scalp, elbows, and feet (the mentioned skin issues). More frowns, then consults with the chief doc and the other rheumatology specialist on staff.
If you've never experienced the sensation of being a particularly fascinating microbe discovered by a budding scientist... well, that's where I was. And then they started talking about shots and infusions and I nearly went hysterical right there. Needles and I (Debbie not withstanding; her surname is 'Needle') do NOT get along - more specifically, they're one of the surest triggers of fight or flight reactions in me. I think my panicky squeak reminded the trio of medico's that I was there, and things were yammered at me. I fished out a pen and a paper scrap and asked for a repeat, and scribbled things down. 'Psoriatic Arthritis in full flare', 'vasculitis', and a half dozen potential treatments... all of which seemed to be via injection.
Great. Just fscking skippy. Check, please!
I was bundled off to the lab, given a lollipop (I felt about three years old), and squeezed my eyes shot for the medtech taking the blood samples. The pattern was repeated for an injection. I bit the lolli in half on that one, and startled the tech... which didn't help improve the experience. Told to go home and try and rest, that I should be okay the following morning. Came back to the apartment and passed out for almost six hours. The mood crash hit like a brick when I woke up.
Rowan grabbed me by the ears and hauled me back from the brink of a full meltdown last night. I don't think she realizes how much she means to me; she's one of the very very few that can successfully derail my mind into something pleasant. Where she finds the strength to deal with a quasi-psychotic nutbag like me is a mystery... or magic. It's one of those things I try not to poke at or try to understand, because I'm afraid I'll logic loop it out of existence. Which will make no sense at all unless you're a fan of Oolon Colluphid, but anyway...
I'm a bit more in control today. Yesterday it felt like my world was crashing in on me again; today ... today it's just 'whatever, it doesn't change anything but the name of the pain' and life lurches on. It's annoying, to say the least, mainly because knowing what it is doesn't tell me 'why' or 'how long' - to my mind they're far more important, you know? I wish I'd known ahead of time that the shot they gave me yesterday was gonna zonk me out; I got sent home from work early today because I looked like I was about to fall over... when I was sitting down. I crawled back into bed upon arival, and was out for another five hours. Hopefully tomorrow will be a bit less hazed.
Which leaves me with a question to ask. I know that some of the folks who read me (or pretend to) have some health issues; does anyone have any experience with Remicade via infusion? I'd really like to have some advance notice if it's gonna do what the stuff they shot with with yesterday did.
Anyone?
Bueller?
