My old friend; Metronidazole

“If it’s not one thing, it’s the other..”

My health feel this way at the moment. Or for at least as long as I can remember presently, my mind has definitely deteriorated.

I’m currently in the second round of two lots of medications: ANOTHER round of Pred, as previously mentioned, and a second course of antibiotics for my wisdom tooth. This time, moving on from Amoxicillin, to Metronidazole. I was taking Metro when I was in the hospital for my C Diff infections. I was taking it when I was on Aza, and it is filled with lots of dread and bad memories. Or at least, memories I could try to remember..

For this time at least, I am experiencing terrible memory loss. I am clumsy and foolish at work, spilling things, making stupid mistakes and generally getting wound up by it all. It’s finally taking its toll and despite being on my final day of tablets, I am quite upset and depressed about how awful I feel. I’ve been fighting it for a couple of days now, but being travelling from London last night was the final straw. My butt has given me nothing but trouble since waking up. I went to work today too, and I felt rough. Luckily, it was so busy I could most definitely ignore my problems. But now.. I just want to sleep. But what will that solve exactly?

What exactly am I looking for to fix all this?

I am unhappy with how little care I’m recieveing for my current Crohn’s problems; of which I have yet to receieve word on – no MRI results, no blood results, no action plan, just the usual ‘let’s draw out the Pred drop offs for a while longer’. I’ve been considering moving hospital for my treatment if this doesn’t improve. Despite that, I do support my GIs current stream of thought, but I always do for the first couple of weeks after seeing him. Whilst getting into a new medication routine, I’m usually fine, but then hit the 4th-ish week, I get all angry and twitchy about what I’m actually doing. By then my body has gotten smart to these new strategies and is fighting hard against me to get better. I am hovering on the edge of something and it is just this long drawn out process of when I will tip over and fall. We’ve been trying our best to stop whatever it might be since January and despite all the guilt I feel surrounding pushing so hard to come off Humira and subsequently not being ‘well’ since, I couldn’t care less whether I went to hospital or not. It seems somewhat destined to happen. Why not get it all over and fucking done with, eh?

 

Most people tell me this attitude is bad for me, it is hurting me more than helping me and to snap out of it. This dark and twisty part of my mind has, at times, infiltrated my actual ‘normal’ mind and that has been scary. This lack of care I have for myself and my body and what it does to me and others around me; as if I am crying for attention, but I  know it is just my restlessness. It is my lack of plan, it is my lack of a good days, it is my lack of positivity.

Dealing with a invisible illness seems so big and small at the same time. It feels huge in the way that it takes over your life and becomes all you are, creating a newer version of ‘you’, but it also feels so small. It is constant, every bloody day, it never fades or stops. It is battling with doctors and nurses and people who think they know best, of what is best for you or how they can help the most. I am tired of that. I am tired of the feeling small feeling I get, because I feel unimportant. I feel left out and just told to ‘solider on’ because I do nothing but that. That what I dealing with right now isn’t that bad, it isn’t as bad as it once was, it isn’t as bad as it could very well be or get. I feel stuck. And I am so tired from fighting my way through the shit to get to the right outcomes. I’m sick of hoops and procedure. I am sick.

I am sick.

Please, take me seriously.

Because this stream of thought isn’t going to last to be repeated by my own voice.. My mind is detaching. I feel useless and in need of help.

Please. Help.

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