Numbah 9. Numbah 9

Yesterday was my 9th humira injection. The side effects are nearly gone now, but I still learned an important lesson.

IMPORTANT LESSON:
Don’t even think about giving youself an injection until that epipen has been out of the stupid fridge for at least 45 minutes.

I talk a big game about how yes, the injection is painful but it’s loads better than the pain of AS but yesterday made me reconsider that sentiment for 15 excruciating seconds. I’m over it now. Mostly.
Maybe.

Ultimately 15 seconds is small change compared to even the edges of pain I had over the weekend. I’m leading a better life than I have in a long time and that’s worth a lot.

I went to Berlin two weekends ago and rode a bicycle around town! And walked up approximately 15 million stairs and played kegelbahn. I went to the V&A last weekend and got to see my kid’s smiley face when he realised we were all going out together instead of just him and his dad. I’m going on a country walk this weekend.
It’s springtime!
Rebirth is everywhere!
Possibility etc

I’m being a little sarcastic because of how I’m not comfortable with genuine emotion. But really, truly things are getting so much better.

3rd time’s a charm (knock wood)

I gave myself my third Humira injection yesterday. In the right side of my stomach, in case you were wondering.  For the first time I don’t feel like hell on the day after injection.

I almost don’t know how to process this in my brain.  And I don’t want to get crazy here, but I can’t help wonder if maybe this means I won’t have all the nausea this weekend. 
Fingers are crossed, friends. Fingers are crossed. Toes, too.

Of course it’s totally possible that just by writing all this down I’ve jinxed myself. By lunchtime I might be unable to bend my knees. My sacroiliac joints might be gearing up for the punishment even now.
Who knows? At least things are working at the moment. At least I had an excuse to use the happy Kermit gif. I’m putting a check in the win column for this morning.

Update:
And then, after lunch the dizzy spells hit

Reasons

You might be shocked to hear this, but I don’t actually like talking about being sick very much. I don’t like talking about pain and medicines. It gets boring because it’s something I have to think about all the time. When do I take this medicine? When do I take the other one? Is this the week I need to get a blood test? Can I make it to the bus stop toda
y? Will I be in too much pain to function by the time I get to work? How many official units of alcohol is that glass of wine? Will my liver break if I drink it? Do I look yellow? Oh great, now my knees are hurting again . . . and etc.

It’s neverending and it’s stupid and by the time I’m done thinking of it I’m so annoyed with myself that I don’t want to say it out loud, because that will just take to the next level of boring. And I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be that dickhead who drones on and on and on about being sick and how hard her life is and wah wah wah. You know?

But then, last summer, my rheumatologist started talking to me seriously about going on biologics, particularly Humira, because of the fact that I’d started to have trouble with my left eye. I started looking for more information about the drug and about peoples’ experiences with it and my research was largely fruitless. A lot of sites about arthritis are geared towards older people, and even those that are geared towards rheumatoid conditions have so many conditions to cover that it can be hard to find the parts that relate to you.

I’ve since found more, there are Facebook groups you can find if you hunt around, but to be frank Facebook groups often have a higher than average whackadoo count. Like I’m sure they have loads of awesome folks too, but the ones who talk the most are typically the ones who want ALL THE ATTENTION RIGHT NOW ( LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME!!!). And honestly, I’m tired enough as it is without having to think about some random character’s drama with their neighbour that may or may not have something to do with their flare.

So I made a decision. I decided to post about this more. And I decided to do that so that other googlers out there like me might find something useful and helpful and possibly a little funny that might help them get to grips with starting a new hopeful sounding but also scary sounding new drug. And it might be nice for them to find out that someone else is in a similarish situation. Because even when you’ve got loads of people who care for and support you it’s still lonely to have a chronic condition. I’m hoping to make it slightly less lonely by talking about it more.

I ordered a medical alert bracelet yesterday.

I’ve had a head cold for the last week and that’s been making me think about medical emergencies and the things I need to remember to tell doctors.
That sounds melodramatic, I know, but it’s not. When you’re taking medication that suppresses your immune system you have to be careful about colds.

Colds can turn into chest infections and chest infections can turn into pneumonia far more quickly than anyone would like. And as someone who used to get chest infections at least once a year up until a couple years ago, I want to avoid ever getting one again. When my scratchy throat showed up last week I wanted to kick everything on earth. I didn’t though. I just started drinking all the fluids and taking hot baths and blowing my nose every 5 seconds. And washing my hands every 3 seconds.

I’m very serious about clean hands these days.
This was my first cold since starting either methotrexate or Humira. If it had turned into a proper infection it would have stopped me from taking both of these medications until 14 days after my last antibiotic.  At this point that would have meant starting over from scratch. I’m not really interested in doing that right now.
Luckily (knock wood), It looks like I’ve avoided that.

You might find yourself thinking, Carolyn, these drugs sound like more hassle than they’re worth what with the exhaustion and the nausea and the itchy scalp and the dangerous head colds. Is it really worth it?

To which I would say to you, yes. Absolutely.  The exhaustion, nausea and itchy scalp should all fade as my body gets used to this new regime, hopefully within the next 10 weeks or so. In the meantime,  do you know what I did today? I walked a half mile across the park to the bus stop rather than taking one bus 4 measly stops to get to another bus.
This might not sound like much so let me reframe it.
For the first time in over a year I was able to walk a half mile. I did not have to stop or grit my teeth.  My
feet did not swell to twice their normal size. I just walked across the park. There was still some pain, but it was tolerable, almost negligible, compared to even 8 weeks ago.
That’s amazing. That’s worth having to order a medical alert bracelet and wash my hands like Howard Hughes.
I’m walking a fine line between nervy fear and this weird aggressive optimism lately. Its a strange mental place to inhabit but it’s worth it if I can keep walking across the park.