Post Treatment Realities part II

still lazing around in bed....

Well, I seem to be at a loss for words, not only because the brain fog hasn't entirely lifted but because I do want to be delicate in how I state what it is I want to say. I will enclose a link to my friend Eva Day's blog because I believe she has summed up so precisely what I seem to be experiencing in my first weeks after EOT. I will include the big disclaimer that everyone's experience is unique, but as with treatment itself,  there are also seems to be a startling number of similarities and shared experiences in the post treatment months.
One of the more inevitable is the anxiety that accompanies the wait for lab results. Of course if we've been clear of the virus throughout most of treatment, chances are we'll be that way a week after ending, after all the nasty meds are still running thick in our blood. It is in the later blood tests that we must anxiously wait to see if we have achieved the goal of SVR. I had requested a one month follow up because I know myself and my tendency to obsess over things like this. My doctor was kind enough to indulge me and I skipped off to the lab last week in hopes of finding some peace of mind; even bad news, as they say, is better than no news. Perhaps ironically the lab tech did every test except the viral level, so yesterday I took myself off to the lab and got another poke in the arm. My nurse Practitioner must have really railed on the tech because when she saw me she was quick to avoid my eyes and left the room. I felt kind of bad for her, a dedicated patient advocate can be very passionate, shall we say, about their work.
Now it's a few days of waiting, again. Thankfully my doctors clinic is affiliated with a large hospital and the blood work can be done on site.
There's a part of me deep down inside that has a feeling that I have not cleared the virus. I don't know if it's a result of a lifelong pattern of coping with the uncertain by always preparing for the worst, or something else. It may be the fact that I still don't feel "better", at least not as "better" as I'd like to be.
Whatever it is, I have learned through treatment and other challenging life experiences, that worrying changes nothing but one's own contentment and the best we can do is, as they used to say back in the day, is to "keep on truckin"
Wishing You all a happy, restful weekend!

Here's Eva's link  http://evaday.blogspot.com/2011/03/hcv-and-next-taboo-shadows-beyond.html?showComment=1300984661807#c2683809668847465530



© 2011 Jennifer Hazard

When Your Mind Has a Mind of it's Own

Looking back at my last post stirs the kettle of emotion for me right now. Part of me feels almost embarrassed at the dark self indulgence and misery. And  yet, I know that is part of the process. I know myself well enough to know that Hep C or no Hep C, if I find an emotion is becoming an annoying presence, like a pimple forming, that I need to indulge that feeling, to give it it's due attention.
There have been  so may times in life that I have held back my feelings, pushed them aside and pulled myself up by the bootstraps to carry on as the Brave Little Soldier. Some of us learn to do that at a very young age. There were things going on in my family, growing up that as the oldest I felt it was my duty to "pull it together" and carry on in order to protect my siblings. And besides, focusing on them was easier than experiencing my own fear and confusion. That response may serve it's purpose in the short term, but it comes with a high price tag in the long run. Fortunately I've learned a few things along the way and one of them is that those buried feelings have to come out and be acknowledged somehow.  Ironically, being on treatment, sitting at home most days, I am immersed in the "opportunity" to experience my emotions, whether I like it or not.
To quote my fellow Hep C blogger Eva, 


"Yet the mostly painful and disturbing thoughts or distorted fixations continued regardless of whether I wished to turn attention to more healing or cheerful possibilities" http://evaday.blogspot.com/


This is so accurate, our minds have a mind of their own, so to speak. There are thoughts and emotions we really have little, if any, control over. It frightens me to remember that some people become delusional and /or suicidal on this treatment. It's one more reason that we really need each other, and our friends and families, our medical providers, anyone close to us to try to understand that we need support, we need understanding and feedback.

I am so incredibly grateful for the people I've met along this crazy timeless path through the mist.  I'm grateful for the others who write and blog and share their stories with courage and honesty. We've got a pretty good community going here. I guess we could say "it takes a village to raise a Hep survivor" I hope that new readers will find welcome and comfort in our little "village".

Peace,

Jenny

© 2011 Jennifer Hazard
Image courtesy of the Graphics Fairy