Today is Day 9. There have been too many Day Nines in my life, starting in 2008. The pain like a long dark tunnel, so like a prisoner who marks the walls in an effort to keep some focus and hope, I begin counting the days.
Here is a difference between Day 7 and Day 9.
On Day 7 I was considering jumping off the George Washington Bridge.
On Day 9, when the pain woke me at 5 am, drenched in sweat and sickly nauseous, I staggered around the house thinking, "Who can I get to kill me? Can I hire someone?"
Now it is nearly 6 am. The hot pack is on my shoulders. I have gotten down a glass of coke which has quelled the nausea enough that I can consider the array of pills before me.
It is a toss us between the Imitrex which I took 3 of the last 4 days, or Vicodin, which I have not had since last month.
In truth, it looks to me like I may need to go back on the steroids, which I have been off of for two weeks. But I have gathered my papers and my hopes and lists and later today I see Dr. Ponti for lab results.
I also intend to ask her about pure oxygen, hormone supplements, sodium valproate, liquid narcotics, a new allergy medication.
I quit the Flonase, which I had been on for a year, two weeks ago and so far my nose has nearly stopped bleeding. It may be coincidence but I doubt it. More on that later.
Oh, and the doctor will likely do a skin biopsy. In the past three weeks a new and nefarious entity has arisen, a round hot blister of skin on my right shoulder. It looks exactly like the skin cancer type lesion that rose up Spring 2009. Two doctors thought its appearance was that of a cancer but the biopsy was inconclusive. Here we go again. I can't really muster a Wheeee! right now. Let's see what the doctor has to say.
Outside the birds are singing and the sky is turning black to blue.
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