The Six Month Milestone

Here I am, unbelievably, at the 6 month post treatment milestone. For those you who have been through treatment either yourself or with someone you know, you probably know the swirling mass of emotions that accompany the wait for the blood work results.
In my world, everyone I know who did not maintain SVR post treatment found out at the 6 month follow up, hence the term "Milestone"
Naturally I am a bit anxious. Really I just want to know. In times of uncertainty people often declare that even bad news is better than no news.
Having had the kind of childhood that was frequently wrought with elements of unpredictability and a fair amount of instability, I developed the coping skills of magical thinking and a personal type of superstition as an attempt to predict and control my environment. Hoping for the best while preparing for the worst can be a reasonable adaptive technique, and yet is subject to the individuals state of mind and sense of self at the time. If I were feeling unworthy, down on myself and resigned to a life of struggle, I would spend far more time preparing for the worst. On a particularly optimistic, self confident day I may dare to hope for a positive outcome-because I may actually believe I deserve it.
In the real world however, even though a positive attitude can boost the body's healing processes the bottom line is either the treatment works or it doesn't. By now my body has made that decision and the only way it can tell me is via the results of my blood test. I have an appointment on Wednesday Aug 3 to have a discussion with my Nurse Practitioner, my blood and me. Until then I have no control or influence over the outcome.
I know that ultimately I will be okay no matter what the results tell me. My blood work has been returning to normal and I assume that means my body is functioning as it should be. My physical and emotional health continue to improve and my memory and cognitive functions are reasonably acceptable for someone with my history. My health is good enough that if I am faced with the decision of another attempt at treatment I can probably wait a few years. I have a wonderful supportive partner, a beautiful and funny family, a few good friends and 2 dogs and 2 cats who grace me with their company. I have hobbies and activities that I enjoy and I feel that now and then I am able to contribute something useful and meaningful to society. All in all life is pretty good and I am grateful for the people animals and opportunities that I have. Regardless of the test results I am a pretty lucky woman.

Image courtesy of i RainbowCupcake via photobucket

http://s495.photobucket.com/home/iRainbowCupcake

2010-2011 Jennifer Hazard

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