The diagnosis was out of my doctor’s mouth within a second of seeing the wound on my shoulder. She made a call to my rheumatologist, who recommended I come off my medications for RA for a week and go on an anti-viral regime: 42 pills in 7 days. Good news is there’s very little risk that I infected anyone else. However, I sent out a message to S, warning her that I might have exposed her dad to it. His system is even worse than mine, and I know how easily I fall ill.
Good Gods! Make way for the walking dead. That’s what I feel like: my body is flipping falling apart on me but I just keep on going.
I am all too aware right now that the Universe just offered up a big, fat excuse for not attending my language class on Monday: shingles recurrence. It’s painful at best. Add into that the pumped up meds I’ll be taking, and it’s probably best overall if I just chill out this week and avoid too much people contact.
Um…thanks? I mean, I know I was looking for a way to squirm out of Monday because of my outburst. I didn’t really want it to come in this form. But that’s what you get, and it’s also why you’ve gotta watch out what you ask for: the Universe is likely to give it to you.
Today I’ll cook up a batch of my homemade remedy. I used it in 2014 on my first bout of shingles, and it worked very well. Sadly, I’ve already scarred myself by ripping the blisters off and creating these wounds. But I can prevent any further damage, and hopefully limit this incessant itching and burning sensation.
*sigh* This is the way you go, you know. It just becomes one thing after the other until your body can’t fight anymore. …Shit. Happy fucking thoughts.
Distract. Rest. Do what I can to stay calm. Anxiety isn’t helping me heal.
…Ah. Good. S just sent me a text. Her dad is okay. And now he knows, so if something happens in the next few days (please don’t let him get sick!!) he won’t blow it off (like I almost did).
And here I was thinking I’m doing so flipping well. I haven’t caught the flu. Not even a cold this winter. But my body just insists on falling ill every winter. It’ll flipping MANUFACTURE something if I don’t catch anything. …I’m trying to be understanding, to say ‘oh, my poor body, going thru so much’ but all I really am is disappointed. My body has let me down again. I didn’t expose myself to anything, I didn’t push myself beyond my limits, I didn’t do anything to myself – and yet, my body battles me. Pulls me down.
Some people get Lamborghinis or Porsches for bodies. I’ve got a damned Studebaker or Gremlin. It isn’t just shitty, it’s downright dangerous.
On the good side: first, I didn’t stop myself from going to the doc. That’s a biggie. I almost didn’t go. And I needed to go. Trying to learn that lesson. My doc realizes this, and told me I was right to come in, I didn’t waste her time, and if I have a fever or any other symptoms to come back immediately. Second, I probably didn’t pass this on to anyone, so let go of that guilt! Third, I’ve got people who actually care about me right now. Who are worried that I’m once again ill, and send their healing thoughts my way. Take that in. Fourth: I can blow off Monday language lesson or not; it’s up to me. My physical condition certainly warrants some down time. That’s up to me, and while I feel right now that I’ll be sitting home on Monday, I’ll wait to make that final decision. Fifth: there is smoke in the house, and entertainment on my tv system. I can wallow in it, and probably should for a day or two minimum. Sixth, and perhaps most important to remember: it’s only pain. Shingles isn’t life threatening. Annoying and painful, yes. A bit more dangerous to someone like me who’s got a bad immune system. But in the end, it’s just pain. A physical sensation like hunger. Something you can get through.
My disappointment in my body…now that’s not so easy to ‘get through’. I can’t hide my disappointment from myself. I can’t hide the immediate thoughts that come to my mind: damned body! What a train wreck!
Can I ever learn to love this lemon?