July Part 6 – Last Round!


Bomb day. The day that literally everything gets thrown at me. Lots of antibiotics, herbals, and an antimalarial. Sometimes it seems like I do well with the finish line, but this time I had no luck.

Within about an hour or two of taking this colossal amount of treatments to fight off all the buggers, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was cloudy, depersonalized, and felt like although my arms weighed a ton, the rest of my body was as light as a feather. Of course, I had to run some errands, like the bank and pharmacy (my second home lately), and I can bet describe it as when you need to be shut off at the bar. I was sort of floating around, not the usual walk I have that I am the tin-woman, but if a cop saw me, he would probably breathalyze me. Fun times.

I was so glad to get home from work. There was so much I wanted to accomplish for the day, but I couldn’t get off the couch. It was a useless day. I had the mentality that tomorrow was another day, although that didn’t end up happening either.

To save some money, we didn’t do our bomb day tradition of getting Chinese food. The cure all. No nausea. Egg rolls and crab rangoons = pure happiness. The grease really does help soak up everything and makes you feel better. I made gluten free macaroni and cheese as melted cheese is greasy, with high hopes it would have the same effect, at least a placebo effect, and it definitely didn’t compare to my cure all dinner.

It was a very long night. Bomb day is not for the light hearted whatsoever. I was so nauseated, and my stomach began to feel like it was a punching bag and my endometriosis pain came back with a vengeance. All I could do was curl up in a ball on the couch. It took a few hours for me to get up the courage to get up off the couch and get ready for bed. It was a success. No pukey. Hooray!

The next day as I had mentioned, wasn’t all that pleasant either. I am sure I am herxing, but I am pretty sure a lot of it has to do with being checker block full of toxins. At least it was a day off from treatment, so I get a little bit of a breather. Lots of water, burbur drops, and probiotics. I have a hard time with temperature control so epsom salt baths are out of the question unless I have supervision, and unfortunately, I get ACA on my feet, which is a herx rash (search ACA on my search engine to learn more), so I prefer not to do foot soaks for detox. Ouchies.

I had two calls that day. The first was from my GP’s office, stating that my urine test came out negative for drugs. Umm okay? I reiterated to the woman that I had a full blood panel done, not their little half assed piss test, and I hand delivered it to her personally, and if she would remember correctly, I wrote in giant capital letters, “ALL NEGATIVE” and underlined it. I should have put an exclamation point at the end, but I didn’t want to push it.

It kind of just reiterated that a lot of doctors don’t take me seriously, or even look at my records. I am not quite sure if he was being a jerk, or being an idiot. Perhaps both. Especially considering it took two weeks of “discussing and thinking about” ordering a drug test to clear my name in the first place.

This is the doctor that sent out that I had very low iron levels to my cardiologist, when in fact I have very high levels of iron. Lesson to you all, don’t trust anything and get your own ducks in a row.

Call number two. To be fair, Dave drives a very loud old dump truck, with no AC so the windows are down, and is required by law now to use a bluetooth device for hands free calling. His is a cheap pair, so it isn’t the best. It was the day that I told him he really needed to tell his boss that he needed to take me to the electrophysiologist next month.

Anywho, I called to ask about it, and all I heard from him was that his boss was going to start to dock his pay (even though he hasn’t used his vacation time up yet), and with his scratchy, hearing every other word headset, I missed the part that he told me he was just busting my balls and his boss didn’t care. Yeah.. I would have loved to have not missed that part of the conversation.

I spent the rest of the day riddled with anxiety, stressed out as I didn’t want him to lose any money, teary eyed, and began to have chest pains. I was so angry, as I know his boss loves me, so I had no idea what was going on. Whyyyyyy??!!!! Stress doesn’t help symptoms at all. As soon as Dave walked through the door when he got home, I was ranting about the situation, and he started laughing. “Did you really miss the part I told you I was joking?” Apparently so, Dave.

“You know he doesn’t care if I bring you to appointments and whatnot.” This is true. His boss is very understanding and kind toward me, and has also seen me near my worst, so he at least knows I am not a big faker. I was blindsided by Dave’s joke. Dave knows he can’t joke anymore while driving, since you can’t hear half the crap he is saying now. I felt silly, because I was crying when he told me that he was kidding, because I really wanted to punch him. Dave Dave Dave. You comedian, you.

Even though I got everything sorted out, my mental issues continued throughout the rest of the night. I was filled with panic, paranoia, and thoughts were rushing through my mind. Anything and everything. Everyone hates me. I am sad and lonely. I wish I was doing something other than sitting here tonight. Fingers crossed when I am weaned off off Klonopin that it will help out with these issues.

Back in the day, I was always the kind of person that never let anything effect me. People could be mean, there could be some sort of drama (generally things dragged into someway somehow), things could not go as planned, anything.. and I kind of had a “whatev” sort of response to everything. It would all work itself out. No big deal. Don’t sweat it. Now, I feel like I am fragile with everything. I hate that. Hopefully I will eventually go back to my old self and thick skinned mentality.

Yesterday I was recovered a lot from the week’s treatment, my main issue was pure exhaustion. I was unmotivated, but I managed to get a good chunk of work done. No cleaning like I had intended, but it was nice to feel a lot better than I had been.

In the early evening, Dave and I decided to go out to dinner at a restaurant that my best friend works at. It was absolutely dead when we got there, which was perfect. By the time our food was served though, a golf tournament ended and all the golfers who had been drinking and golfing all day and grabbed a drink at the bar got LOUD. I can’t handle loud, especially conversations around me. I intensely tried to focus on having a conversation with Dave and ignore everyone around me. It wasn’t really working, so we scoffed our food down so we could get out of there.

Then, the owner, I have no friggin clue why (mood lighting?), decided it would be an awesome idea to use the dimmer for the lights. High, low, high low. Over and over again.

Yup. System overload. Time to go. Like right now. My friend grabbed my arm, pushed everyone aside and helped bring me out to the car so I could go home. She apologized, even though it wasn’t her fault at all, gave me a hug and a kiss, and back home we went.

Within minutes of getting home, I was out like a light for a few hours. At least I got out in time, as I started to feel that wave, that aura that I know all to well, that a seizure is about to come.

Today was the start of my second week of treatment. It involves one more antibiotic. I honestly felt pretty well for the first few hours, then went downhill. I was off balance and I am pretty foggy. My hands and fingertips are so painful. I have a goal of doing a little cleaning, fortunately Dave helped me out with some of the chores this morning so I didn’t have to do them, and cooking dinner.

Mind over matter! At least I have nothing going on for the rest of the day, so I can pick at things that I need to get done, such as sort through the giant stack of papers I have strewn across my living room floor. Bills. Magazines. More bills. Junk mail.

At least I know this will be the very last time I will have this protocol. As I have said before, if I can feel it, I am still okay. I’ll get through the week, I always do! I can only hope I am getting the bad out of the way right now, and then there will be some smooth sailing.

Happy Sunday everyone!

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