So, yesterday was pretty much the worst day I’ve had in a long time. I had zero sleep, been so nauseous, I can’t hold down my meds, lost ten pounds in a week, hallucinating, and have trouble/shallow breathing. So, good thing I was going to my immunological disease clinic for labs and lab review and anything else she could throw at me.
Well, my liver enzymes are rising. What that means, because I have Hep C AND HIV, thanks Dave! I had to do Interferon. For those of you that don’t know what Interferon is, it’s like chemo for your liver to eradicate the Hep C. You take these horrid pills- I used to call them my chemo pills twice a day. Made me so nauseous, I couldn’t keep anything down. So, I learned to take em at night, right? Then, once a week, you have to give yourself an injection of this Interferon shit. It Interferes with your body, dig? So, I did it for like four or six months, but here’s the deal, well, two: It’s supposed to eradicate/cure the Hep C and then it makes you bat shit crazy. I mean, BAT. SHIT. NUTS. It doesn’t matter if you have a mental health history or not, it will drive you, literally, insane. And it did me. I was doing it during the criminal trial with Dave. This one one computer troll called me, “fat”. I was like, that’s Interferon buddy. Let’s see if you can put a serial infector in prison, stand up for yourself and others (How many we don’t exactly know, somewhere in the thousands we guess), stop a health epidemic, stand up to an abusive, drug abusing, sex addicted, satan-worshipping ex, and do interferon. Fuck you. When you pay my bills, we’ll have some thing to talk about.
Anyways, I told my NP, Edna, I wasn’t doing Interferon again. It’s akin to suicide. Liver cancer or something. She says it’s fatty. But the Interferon never cured the Hep C. I had to break it to my mom. Not easy.
And then? Labs. And my last two Hep B vaccines. So, I go down to the lab- which was packed. And she takes these three tubes out of a specially sealed packages, TB, Meningitis and another one I couldn’t read. So, I look up TB symptoms on the web. Anthony. Just got out of Prison- an institution, half way house, Pine Rest. All a lot of people crammed into little bitty living spaces. Bastard. So, my mom came over with a kerchief on yesterday. Looked like Clint Eastwood’s mom. Had to call people and tell them to get tested or checked out for TB. Because I was possibly exposed. Humiliating.
September 8, 2015 8:53 am
So, how was your Labor Day? I spent mine between my couch and bed. No one called from the lab. No one called from the doc office. I called this morning and left a msg with the nurse. I was hallucinating Friday night before bed. I’ve finally been able to eat today. Because I haven’t eaten in a few days, I’ve been pigging out. And shopping. And having PTSD episodes.
Did I mention I have a new part? He’s a part of a part of a part- yes that is possible. His name is Zachary. He is four. He has a door with a latch on it with more cult memories. I’m like, is this shit is ever going to end? My therapist is gone, out on medical leave. I won’t see her till the 18th of this month. WTF, am I supposed to do? I’m busting out every coping skill and skill I know. I gotta call the DBT therapist today. Cuz I need to deal with this. I’m all emo brain and my meds need to be tweaked. I see him today. At three. So, we’ll see how that goes. I want off the Geodon, back on Saphris so I can sleep and I can go back on Tramadol for my pain. That stuff works. That damned Norco was bullshit. No more Opiates again. No more. Never again- unless I have surgery and it’s all monitored and controlled.
Well, I better get going. Gratitude is an action. Need to clean and organize the sacred spaces. The matching night stands come today for the bedroom. Gotta get my poop in a group, but I can only go so fast. you know?
Have a good day, y’all!!!!
So, that’s the health drama- with the HIV, I have about one a year. But, I met a new part- Zachary, 4 year old boy. Part of Vicky, wj=ho is the other side/part of Vickie. Great. 1 o’clock two nights ago, he had his toolbelt on and was ready to make our meditsation corner. I’m like, bud, not now.