One advantage of being a bit older doing the treatment this time is that it is flying by, along with the rest of time. A bit soon to be saying that kind of thing. But later this evening I will inject the interferon for the third time.
It's been a good week. I'd say that although I am more tired that the week before, apart from that I feel better this week: less feverish, less blue, I can concentrate better and the rash on my hands is improving.
On Monday I told the team at work about the treatment. I asked the boss to get the team together, as I want them to understand what I'm doing, especially for the days when I don't feel so hot. I told them that I was doing treatment for Hep C, a bit about the drugs, the side effects and what it entails. The Care Manager, who used to be a nurse, had some questions, which I felt was useful by immediately turning it into something that could be discussed. She asked whether it might cover my having another virus. I wonder whether she asked that because her husband is recovering from surgery, and she's concerned about catching a virus from me and taking infecting him? I told her I'd fight off any other viruses better that usual, as that's my understanding.
I thought it was best just to be straightforward about having Hep C. If I act unembarrassed about having it, I think that reduces stigma, whereas if I act ashamed, other people who know less about it than me and who have probably never thought about it before will pick up on my signals and think that the appropriate way to view Hep C is as something to be ashamed of. So, i've also been straightforward in telling the drama group the reason I've stopped going.
Last time I did the treatment I was less open. Some people found out I was doing a medical treatment, but not what for, and they were very worried about me: I assume they thought I had cancer of some kind - I wanted to avoid worrying people unnecessarily too.
Fridays are non-working days in my part-time week, and it's at the end of my treatment week too with the least effects of interferon, so I try to work out quite hard. I did my whole usual work out, cardio and weights. I'm thinking of using my 2 kilometer rowing time as benchmark for how much energy I've got. Today it took me 10 minutes dead, which is about 10 seconds faster than last week and 20 seconds slower than my pre-treatment time. This week the whole work out felt harder though. By doing the same, I'm working harder.
I saw my GP this morning. It was a bit of a non-event as most of the side effects that I've been getting from the citalopram and the treatment have lessened. Still, it was good to check in and let her know what's going on. And they have said they want to monitor my mental state, so I am co-operating.
Then, in the afternoon, it was my second round of blood tests. Again, absolutely no drama, and no wait to go in either. I kept with the newly started tradition of coffee and cake afterwards. Then yoga nidra, put the shopping away, and it's time to make dinner already.
I'm going to try having an isotonic sports drink with my injection this evening, as it's recommended by some people on the forum. It can't hurt.
Thanks for taking the time to read this. Hope all is well with you.
Showing posts with label week 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label week 2. Show all posts
Friday, 15 March 2013
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
12. 12 March 2013 - One bad day...
...does not a winter make. There was a blizzard in Brizzle yesterday, for all of five minutes, then the sun was out. It's cold though. Spring is a bit slow coming.
Yesterday was hard. I'd increased the SSRIs up to the 20mg standard prescribed dose, and had the same reaction as when I first started them, busy brain kept me awake from 2am. As the time ticked by I got more and more tired and grumpy and cross about being awake, which then made me more agitated and awake, the usual.
And then as it got closer to getting-up-time I started weighing up, should I go in to work or do I "feel too unwell". I hate that conundrum. If I think about it for long enough I can nearly always persuade myself that I am ill enough that it would be better that I rest, especially when I am feeling down. I really believe though that thinking that you can do it, are strong enough, are ok, are able, is important for combatting depression and lack of self-belief.
I feel that if I let myself stay at home when I feel ill, I'll be at home quite a lot, and I'll do less and feel worse. I will get behind at work and get anxious and feel like I'm not coping. I will start to think of myself as, primarily, ill. But that if I force myself into work, and think of myself as a 'fighter', not giving in, and take stubborn pride in going in every day of the treatment (if possible), however rotten I'm feeling, that I will most likely continue to function and cope, with a few days here and there of it being too much, rather than months. Or... I'll exhaust myself.
So I dragged myself into work, feeling rubbish. As I was walking down the road (after having gone back to get my mobile phone, more incompetence) I remembered the bonhomie of my HCV support buddies and it lifted me up. I check in everyday now, just for 10 minutes or so, to catch up on how people are doing. We fight this fight together!
At work I got on with my repetitive, familiar, everyday tasks that don't require any original thought. I find that every time I switch screens, e.g. between Excel and Outlook, that I forget what I'm doing, so I found myself talking out loud (I am in an office on my own)... "come on R, what are we doing, we are looking for the payment schedule for X..." But there will be a day when I need to be able to do something which does require original thought. Oh well.
My boss told me to go home 45 mins early, before the snow recommenced and I refused. I hope that isn't going to backfire, by making him feel that his help has been rejected. I want to save going home early for week 44 of the treatment, not use it in week two.
The week before, I'd signed up for a nine week yoga course on Monday evenings. I didn't go last week because I was too busy being miserable, so really wanted to go yesterday. You miss one class, ok, you miss two it gets embarrassing and then you end up not going at all which is a waste of money. So, even though I was feeling sick, faint and shaky I went. I thought I was being stupid in pushing myself so hard - turns out not. The class was restful, just the right amount of challenging, and I felt transformed - energised and calm - afterwards.
I slept ok last night, but today, I have a brain of sludge. Or does it just feel like sludge? Maybe it works ok it just feels... it feels like yesterday I did 500 brain press-ups in the mud whilst being shouted at by a brain Sergeant Major and now it is quivering brain jelly.
Yesterday was hard. I'd increased the SSRIs up to the 20mg standard prescribed dose, and had the same reaction as when I first started them, busy brain kept me awake from 2am. As the time ticked by I got more and more tired and grumpy and cross about being awake, which then made me more agitated and awake, the usual.
And then as it got closer to getting-up-time I started weighing up, should I go in to work or do I "feel too unwell". I hate that conundrum. If I think about it for long enough I can nearly always persuade myself that I am ill enough that it would be better that I rest, especially when I am feeling down. I really believe though that thinking that you can do it, are strong enough, are ok, are able, is important for combatting depression and lack of self-belief.
I feel that if I let myself stay at home when I feel ill, I'll be at home quite a lot, and I'll do less and feel worse. I will get behind at work and get anxious and feel like I'm not coping. I will start to think of myself as, primarily, ill. But that if I force myself into work, and think of myself as a 'fighter', not giving in, and take stubborn pride in going in every day of the treatment (if possible), however rotten I'm feeling, that I will most likely continue to function and cope, with a few days here and there of it being too much, rather than months. Or... I'll exhaust myself.
So I dragged myself into work, feeling rubbish. As I was walking down the road (after having gone back to get my mobile phone, more incompetence) I remembered the bonhomie of my HCV support buddies and it lifted me up. I check in everyday now, just for 10 minutes or so, to catch up on how people are doing. We fight this fight together!
At work I got on with my repetitive, familiar, everyday tasks that don't require any original thought. I find that every time I switch screens, e.g. between Excel and Outlook, that I forget what I'm doing, so I found myself talking out loud (I am in an office on my own)... "come on R, what are we doing, we are looking for the payment schedule for X..." But there will be a day when I need to be able to do something which does require original thought. Oh well.
My boss told me to go home 45 mins early, before the snow recommenced and I refused. I hope that isn't going to backfire, by making him feel that his help has been rejected. I want to save going home early for week 44 of the treatment, not use it in week two.
The week before, I'd signed up for a nine week yoga course on Monday evenings. I didn't go last week because I was too busy being miserable, so really wanted to go yesterday. You miss one class, ok, you miss two it gets embarrassing and then you end up not going at all which is a waste of money. So, even though I was feeling sick, faint and shaky I went. I thought I was being stupid in pushing myself so hard - turns out not. The class was restful, just the right amount of challenging, and I felt transformed - energised and calm - afterwards.
I slept ok last night, but today, I have a brain of sludge. Or does it just feel like sludge? Maybe it works ok it just feels... it feels like yesterday I did 500 brain press-ups in the mud whilst being shouted at by a brain Sergeant Major and now it is quivering brain jelly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)