Meth Lover

Okay, that's probably a bit extreme.

But after following Dr. Pain's explicit instructions to take the methadone every eight hours, whether I have pain or not, guess what?

No pain!

Or at the very minimum, very manageable and tolerable pain.

Never in a million years would I have guessed I would become a 'legalized' meth user, but I'll be damned, it's working.

I've had a couple of days of really bad duodenal pain that was not controlled by the meth, but I meet with Dr. Pain tomorrow, and will ask her what my options are for breakthrough pain.

Oh, and as an aside, I wore my brand new nineteen dollar low cut Old Navy Diva jeans to church today in my new 139 lb. size 10 smoking hot bod.

Just thought I'd throw that out there, cuz it's my blog, and well, I can!

Onward we trudge!

Watermelon Head

I'm alive today, thought you might want to know.

So today I am working on the computer, getting sleepy, will probably nap and read some.

I always keep my day after Remicade 'empty', so that I don't have to worry about anything.

Billy took care of the kids this morning, he's got the boat guy coming this morning to see what's wrong with it, and then he will take Jake to wress-a-ling practice tonight, so Reilly and I can just lay in my bed and watch tv together.

My voice is shot - side effects of all the benadryl and solumedrol (steroids), I am red and hot to the touch, but I do not have a fever.

Yesterday, Sue, my nurse, told me to take two benadryl before I went to bed last night, which I did, and to continue taking it today, round the clock until the reaction subsides.

I have started that already.

The reactions are most definitely better than they have been, and we've been tweaking it every time.

This time, I was in the bathroom across the hall, trying to pee, when the reaction started, and they didn't have a call button, so I stopped peeing, didn't even wash my hands, looked in the mirror and looked like I had a watermelon sized face the color of a tomato, and ran back to the lab while attached to my IV pole.

She was ready, stopped the Remicade, and administered all the meds, and waited about 45 minutes before starting again.

Is it weird that it feels better when she holds my hand throughout this whole process of hell?

Throughout the rest of the day, I would get fidgety or itchy, and she would add smaller doses of meds as she felt accordingly.

We'll get there.

No Poop For YOU!

~

Say it just like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld:

No POOP for YOU!

I haven't pooped in eight days.

Yes, you are reading the right blog.

Little Miss Diarrhea has not pooped in eight days.

I am loving this!

No, I am not going to call my doctor.

No, I am not in any pain.

No, I do not have a fever.

No, I do not think there is anything 'wrong'.

My bowels used to be like this 'before' I had Crohn's.

So this is an awesome sign.

Our current protocol continues to work.

I am loving 'NOT' pooping.

No Poop for ME!

~

Lobster

Yesterday was Remicade day.

It went pretty smooth.

Had the reaction, Miracle Worker nurse was right there with the back-up meds, and I finished in record time - 4 1/2 hours!

And then I woke up this morning.

LITERALLY every part of my body is bright red, the color of a steamed lobster.

I have red sheer curtains in my dining room, and if I stood behind them, you wouldn't be able to see me.

That is how red I am. (okay, no redhead jokes now, that's not what I'm talking about!)

And, not only am I red, but I am scorching hot to the touch, but I have no fever.

Once again, I have hives on the palms of my hands, and the pseudo-electric current is slowly coursing through my body, but not like it does during the infusions.

When I woke up this morning, I could not move my arms or my legs.

But I took my time, and finally was able to shake them alive again.

I went ahead and medicated myself, called Miracle Worker Nurse so she could document the continued reaction for the file, and wholeheartedly agreed that I took the right meds, at the right dose, and to continue with them every four hours until the reaction goes away.

Suffice it to say, I will be dozing off very shortly.

And you thought this post was going to be about a scrumptious steamed lobster slathered in hot melted butter with a fresh baked loaf of French bread on the side?

Yeah, I wish it had been.

Sigh.

Really

~
Oh my knees are really hurting.

REALLY hurting.

Sigh.

As I was driving home from a friend's house with Jake this afternoon, I was listening to my contemporary christian radio station, and I heard "Bring the Rain" by MercyMe.

For those of you who don't know it, don't worry about it.

But it made me realize, that my entire life has been a battle.

Actually a series of battles.

I think I have one beaten, and then there is another one for me to fight.

A child of divorce.

A child of an alcoholic father I never knew, who died before I could connect.

A child of sexual abuse.

A child of rape.

And then an adult with an alcoholic husband.

And then an adult of divorce.

And then Crohn's Disease.

I have won every battle.

I am still fighting the last one.

But amazingly, I am still, and always be, a child of God.

He has brought the joy

and He has brought the glory,

and Lord Jesus

He is bringing the rain.

Eh

I got nothing better to say.

Then why the heck would I post?

I dunno.

It's my damn blog.

Just felt like it.

My knees and hips are throbbing.

Two Vicodin, Two Valium, Four Ibuprofen, a boiling hot jacuzzi bath, and a vibrating bed later, and they are still throbbing.

Because I have to take the steroids to get ready for Remicade on Monday.

YAY!

Woohoo!!!

Can't freaking wait!

Oh boy!

Okay, I will go away and shut my piehole now that I'm done complaining.

A whole bunch of a lot of damn good it does.

Which is why I try not to do it.

But it's just been a couple of those kinda days.

I'm done now.

Goodbye.

Guilt?

So we have returned from our vacation of a lifetime.

It is 1127 am EASTERN time.

I woke up at 10 am EASTERN time.

Highly unusual, for those of you who know me In Real Life.

But then again, that would be 7 am PACIFIC time.

Anyway.

I can't get out of bed.

I hurt all over.

My knees are throbbing.

My guts are raging.

I am two weeks behind on Remicade (remember? TFG????)

And I am starting to feel it.

Remarkably, I had two bad days on the 35 day trip.

Personally, I consider that to be miraculous.

I used to be better at math, but 2/35 seems like a very small percentage to me, even though I can't do it in my head anymore.

So why is this post entitled guilt?

Well, for those of you who know me In Real Life, you know what a go-getter I am, how I never stop, how I suppress the unsuppressable, how I never quit, never say die, and just plain suck it up.

Right now, I am staring at dust.

and dog hair.

and filth.

and bags upon bags upon bags that need unpacking.

and a 4 foot high stack of mail.

and an empty refrigerator.

and two monsters who are bouncing off the walls because they can't discern the difference between exhaustion and insanity.

and a husband who is already up, doing errands, mowing the grass, making a million phone calls, laying out chicken to thaw for dinner and asking me, 'when are you going to publix because there is NOTHING to eat'.

and a list of school supplies that need to be purchased.

and thank you notes that must be written.

and thank you gifts that must be bought with money that doesn't exist.

and 3,000 pictures that need to be edited and cropped for the scrapbook of a lifetime that will commence being created on the first day of school (I'm not THAT crazy that I would start THAT project TODAY).

and 12 more blog posts to be written to get everyone caught up on our trip before every miniscule detail escapes my memory.

and business battles that need to be fought with lots and lots of energy and fortitude.

and enemies that must be faced and beaten.

and I continue to lie here.

and I think I am going to continue to lie here, today, for as long as I possibly can.

So back to my original question.

Should I feel guilty?

For lying here for one day?

For going to Publix in five or six hours, instead of right this minute?

For letting the monsters watch whatever they want to watch on television today, since they haven't watched tv in 35 days?

For letting the house 'go' for one more day?

When healthy people go on vacation, do they take 'one' day to recover?

Or do they wake up in the morning and jump right on it?

I know the answer.

I used to jump right on it.

I used to be healthy.