Post #51: I'll take the punch to the gonads

Not even sexy carrot sex can cheer me up today

Hey there! This post is going to be depressing, better kick the kids out of the room.

So you know when you go to the doctor, and he tells you you're failing treatment, and your window for maximum treatment efficacy is closing, and he's worried that you're doing real damage to you digestive business, and he wants to test you for TB and get you started on an even scarier medication? No? Well then we don't have a lot in common today.

It's a lot to take in. I kind of expected a "Buck up sister friend! These symptoms will pass! Go patient go!" pep talk, but I got REALNESS instead. At one point during the waterworks show (every.fucking.time) I whispered, "I really hate having to make these decisions" and the doctor was basically like (in the nicest way possible!), well, you've actually been avoiding making these decisions, and you have to make them now. Now, would you prefer injections or infusions?

That's a tough one nice doctor. Why don't you toss around some statistics and talk about drug trials and safety while I decompress in the corner? Thanks.

It was like my brain shut off. I don't really remember the details, but a plan was made and (more) blood was drawn. Oh, and the steroids and the first scary medicine? I have to keep taking those too.

I've always been kind of weird about medication. I worry about side effects, and that the treatment will be worse than the problem itself. I'm not a particularly healthy person, but I don't like the idea of all of these chemicals and fillers and dyes flowing through my system. It doesn't necessarily make sense; I don't exist on a regimen of hot yoga and transcendental meditation and kale enemas, but I sometimes feel like I'm poisoning my body when I take these drugs. As I was driving home today, and trying not to cry for the 5th time, I suddenly had the thought that at this point my body is basically a Superfund site. I can't fix what's broken, and I keep polluting the well.

I had a lot of time to think in the car; I was stuck in traffic behind a big gold SUV with the license plate "URSOFLY." As I gear up for yet another new medication, while adding back the old medication that makes me feel like crap and continuing the steroids, I was wondering how I keep going forward. How do you orient yourself to this process of continually facing new and frightening realities? How do you keep ingesting (and apparently, soon, injecting) new medicines and making new plans and while postponing the old ones?

I think that at the end of the day, it's never occurred to me that I won't find my way back to good things. I keep going because there is no alternative, but also because I want better for myself. The potential side effects and the potential benefits grow thick together, like weeds, and it's hard to sort the one from the other.

I feel like I've made the decisions, but I'd hard to find peace when all of the choices are objectionable (would you like a black eye or a broken finger or punch to the gonads?). It's hard to pump yourself up yet again for a medicine that might make you feel worse than you do now.

And so I'll do what I always do: cry about it, engage in some retail therapy, read scary things online, lose sleep, and ultimately try something new. Try, and try again. Again and again and again.