Sunday, September 18, 2011
Generalia
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Week 4
Monday, July 4, 2011
Week 1 of M.S. Drugs
It's officially Monday, which means I've completed my first week of the Copaxone therapy (only several hundred more weeks to go.) Let's review.
Monday's injection was done at 2:30pm with the nurse during injection training. Used right arm as my first since supposedly the arms are the worst spot. It certainly lived up to my expectations, that shit is brutal. Deep, throbbing, burning, stinging pain, lasted about two hours. At 5 I had an MRI of my spine done (short version: yeah, that's fucked up too), and this is where I felt the start of a week's worth of anxiety (so far.) I hadn't been bothered by the MRIs up to that point, but they slid me into the machine and I couldn't stop sobbing. I felt this clawing, manic desperation to get out RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. I'd force myself to breathe and feel a little better for a minute, then the whole cycle started up all over again. Left the hospital around 6, cried the whole way home and most of the night.
Monday night I had a night terror about walking into the kitchen to kill myself. Woke up on the floor surrounded by cutlery (no utensils were harmed in the making of this post.)
Didn't go back to sleep cause I was pretty freaked out. Tuesday's shot was in the abdomen, hurt just as much as the damn arm did. Spent most of the day crying and exhausted, found out the results of the spinal MRI, felt like it was a major blow even though I was kind of expecting it. Started noticing that my mouth tasted icky (no resolution on that, still tastes gross) and stomach was in absolute torment (again, still happening.) Stayed up *really* late hoping to be too tired to dream, set my alarm with a 30 minute snooze and planned to use it all night. Dreamt that there were bugs in my skin, woke up scratching the hell out of myself. Yay alarm. Didn't go back to sleep.
Wednesday felt all of the above plus my lower back ached, my hands were shaking, and I had a dizzy spell on standing. Called the nurse who said I needed to come to the hospital right away. spent two hours with the nurse, who I think was trying to make sure I wasn't legitimately suicidal, had blood tests, told to stay on the shot but to ask my therapist for an anti-anxiety med. Went home, worked for a few hours, took my shot in my butt, had one of the worst nights I've ever had, not drug-related, but it's not really any of your business. Was up almost all night again.
Thursday was crushing depression, a sense that nothing will ever be OK again, plus the same stuff as above. Shot was in the right thigh, just as bad as all the other places. Had to talk myself into pushing the button, then cried on the bathroom floor. Saw my therapist at 6, who reminded me that she can't prescribe, told me to call the on-call at the hospital and get something that night, and that I needed to call her on her cell every day over the weekend. Someone evidently seemed unstable. Called on-call doc, was told, "too bad, so sad, can't give you a script for that. Maybe you should just try something relaxing?" Assholes. Another sleepless night (for those of you counting, that's 4 in a row now).
Friday AM called the hospital, they set me up with valium and an anti-depressant. Walked to the store and grabbed my scripts, got my hair cut, mood was definitely better. Shot was left arm, same reactions as before. Mouth still icky, tummy still in turmoil, hands still shaking. Popped a valium, managed to sleep for about 6 hours. Fedex guy woke me up at 8. Fuck them and their punctuality.
Saturday was good (shot: left side abdomen), same general stuff as Friday. Same with Sunday during the day (shot: left side butt), except even with the valium, I didn't sleep; it's Monday morning at 5 as I write this. Had another med-based round of anxiety, followed by more non-med misery.
I think the drugs will help. I know that they're putting me through a special version of hell, and there have been things that are definitely exacerbating the whole mess. It's hard to continue thinking it's worth it, and I can understand why so many people stop taking the meds. The worst part of this is I just want to feel normal and happy, and I feel robbed of the ability to be either of those things.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
The MRI Journey


Monday, May 30, 2011
Anxiety
Saturday, May 14, 2011
For Reference...




