Bad Girl, I have been. My liver numbers are a little high. Too much drink with my weekly toxins, aye? Who knows. My blood results are nicely decorated with many bolded lines: low calcium, high liver, low blood count, and more.
As I've felt pretty good recently, except for pain and severe exhaustion; my body is getting even. Not been working out or eating well, and I have enjoyed a few beers this month (no exaggeration, two). Two is too many to mix with my favorite drug, Methotrexate, however. So, dry now. I'm on the wagon in the hopes of cleaning up the numbers and avoiding a liver biopsy. Cheers!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Persistent Piranha
By now, I had hoped to be beyond their reach, fortified behind rest, exercise, vitamins or some lovely pharmaceutical. Those pesky little creatures that I envision chasing one another through my body; scratching, hitting, gnawing at my joints. They've returned, but it's not the first time. I see them as little piranha.
Sitting still, I can feel their sudden gnawing, as if they are simply famished. The smallest little joint will expel an enormous throb of pain, and repeat, repeat...until it's gone and moving on to the next feeding station. The tip of a finger, any knuckle, the top of a foot, the bottom of a foot, the heel, a hip, the middle of my chest, my ribs--there's no ethical code among these monsters.
Chewing on me from within is what they like do to. Hell, they revel in it and have done so for years. I do fight. They've met Methotrexate, Humira and now Azathioprine head on. I hunt them down and assault their positions with DepoMedrol, Celestone, Prednisone pills. But, they have defeated me. Nothing really works. They have me as they like. My good days are apparently only at their pleasure; my bad days--their revenge.
Sitting still, I can feel their sudden gnawing, as if they are simply famished. The smallest little joint will expel an enormous throb of pain, and repeat, repeat...until it's gone and moving on to the next feeding station. The tip of a finger, any knuckle, the top of a foot, the bottom of a foot, the heel, a hip, the middle of my chest, my ribs--there's no ethical code among these monsters.
Chewing on me from within is what they like do to. Hell, they revel in it and have done so for years. I do fight. They've met Methotrexate, Humira and now Azathioprine head on. I hunt them down and assault their positions with DepoMedrol, Celestone, Prednisone pills. But, they have defeated me. Nothing really works. They have me as they like. My good days are apparently only at their pleasure; my bad days--their revenge.
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