I am worn down. I’d like to blame it on yesterday’s Remicade Infusion, but I’ve been tired for weeks. I get a full night’s sleep and I’m still exhausted by noon. If I don’t take a nap (which explain to me when a working single mom gets to nap) I want to fall asleep by the time I get home from work. It’s like an ever-revolving-hangover, and quite frankly I’d like to shoot myself in the face.
I am extraordinarily grateful for the progress my current drug cocktail has made, the majority of my stomach pain is gone and I no longer live in the bathroom, well, not for that anyway. The fistula still isn’t healed, and lately has been causing me a great deal of pain as well as the UTI I’ve had for more than a year now. That wouldn’t be so hard to deal with if it wasn’t for the constant aches and the fatigue.
This Friday I have yet another appointment with my G.I. specialist, I’m not sure what we “need to talk about” but I’m pretty sure he’s going to lay the surgery option on the table for the umpteenth time. You know what though? These past couple of weeks I’ve been slowly considering it. I’ve been sick for the majority of four years (almost five), and this past year has been brutal with my disease advancing. Maybe it’s time to give in and get sliced and diced, I want this fistula GONE. We’ll see.
I do want to apologize for my lack of decent content lately though. I have a pretty busy schedule lately and with all of the above, I just haven’t had the time to write about the things I’d like to. So if you’re getting sick of this crap, I understand. I promise I’ll get back to writing about drunks, hookers and blow sometime soon. Oh and maybe some enlightening shit too.