Cause and Effect

The meds are taking quite the toll on me these days. That's the strange thing about the disease, how I don't necessarily feel its presence, other than being a bit rundown, but I am utterly at the mercy of its treatment. The doctor doubled my dose of CellCept, which means my stomach is having a really hard time, seeing as the main side effect is nausea, upset and, ahem, loose bowels. I can't even begin to describe how ill I feel, like a mixture of extreme seasickness and that awful hangover you get from drinking too much cheap wine. Mix in the loaded fatigue from the disease and I'm barely functioning, let alone enjoying my life.

And the shame is that there's lots to enjoy right now. The weather's finally picked up. My tragic hip is functioning well, so I can walk again, which is quite a blessing considering the last two years of hellish pain. Oh, and it means I'll be able to get on my bike soon too. The Rock and Roll Boyfriend has steady work for the first time in many, many years, so I'm not worried about getting the bills paid or losing the house. I'm writing a lot more and taking a class I enjoy, and reading voraciously, but I'm doing it all under a haze of extreme nausea clinging to the hope that this miracle drug will kick the disease on its ass and I won't lose my kidneys or drown in my own blood when my lungs start hemorrhaging.

There's a cause and effect to everything in life, and that's something that you're never more acutely aware of than when you're taking any kind of medication. There's irony in the fact that what's supposed to make you well makes you just as sick as what it's supposedly fighting.