After the eventfulness of last week, this week I had scheduled my Wisdom Tooth Extraction and my annual flu jab.
Given my recent – last two years, recent – entrance into the world of needles and procedures and all ‘nasty’ medical things, you would think I would more than okay with a local anesthetic in my gum and jaw, but apparently not. I back out of my extraction only moments before the dental surgeon took to my mouth with a needle, and not just a small one, a BIG ONE. I copped one look at the bastard and starting panicking. I was sooo NOT going to have my tooth ripped from my face and endure the hellish pain of toothache (minus the tooth) for the whole week! I had a lot to do! Many many hours of work to clock up between then and the end of the week, plus lots of Crohn’s group to catch up, agendas to organise, emails to hash out.. it was chaos! So, I thought I had made the right decision, despite feeling awful for being such a coward. It turns out I did; I would have more than likely needed antibiotics for recovery of the extraction (as I always seem to need after almost every dental appointment this year, thank YOU Crohn’s and my sucky immune system) and I would not have been able to have my flu jab.
Now that, that has made my arm swell up. And becoming unbearably hot and uncomfortable. And has resorted to cracking open the painkillers again, but, BUT only the paracetamol and cocodamol this week. I am officially without Tramadol until I become very very desperate. But, if work is anything to go by this week, I shall be once again popping them like candies come Saturday morning, to be very very sick for the following 4 hours after work. See how much this cycle sucks?
Talking of cycles that suck, I am still unable to find out what is happened re: Crohn’s medication: INFLIXIMAB.
My IBD nurse can not give me answer. Why am I expected her to, you ask? Simply because I trust her to be honest. I am also now fed up of feeling how I do and unable to take anything for it. Mainly, my fatigue is causing big problems. I find myself struggling to get through a whole day at work without cancelling all my evening plans in fear of doing too much and becoming MORE tired. I’m sending my boyfriend home earlier and earlier to go get some sleep without me because I want to sleep in my own bed without anyone waking me or bothering me in the night. I’m just struggling to keep my head above water. It feels – and probably sounds, to alot of people – as if I’m being lazy, but I have never really felt this worn out. I know it’s probably mainly because I hardly eat, due to nausea and abdominal pain, and some of it due to my job.
Her voicemail this afternoon suggested that biological treatment might not be the right route given my latest test results. Those are, I am hoping, my endoscopy results, of which my reports suggested biological treatment NEEDED to be reconsidered. How can they find a hiatus hernia, ulcers and move my Crohn’s back up to MODERATE if they don’t want to move forward with a treatment plan? Am I expected to just continue as I am? Am I suppose to be more sick for this type of treatment; one which gave me remission last year, one that was the only medication that worked and allowed me to return to my life, to my job, to my personality? How am I being denied that exactly? Do I honestly need to be more symptomatic? Do I need to be more of a worry to them? How much longer do they honestly think I will last in my current state?
With the anger and frustration I write these words, half of my mind wants to just get sicker and be admitted to prove to them I need this medication. The other half of me doesn’t want to get that petty and wound up by it all and just carry on as I am: I’ve been this way for weeks, maybe months, why not see how much further down the road I can get?
How much can I just ignore and let wash over me? How much of this can I just not care about? I doubt any of it, least of all, some of it. I care about my health because it is me. My health is how I feel every single day. I know how easy it can be to be fine one day then awful the next. And if it wasn’t just about being symptomatic, if it was about how all of these issues build up and up and have nowhere to go and I’m stuck with a brain full of thoughts and no one to share them with, with someone who can give answers and support, where does that fit in? Does it fit in at all?
This is the longest three weeks, EVER.