So last night I took poison. And tonight I will do the same.
This is supposed to make me get better.
I avoided chemo with my cancer, but now I’ve got a truly magnificent case of psoriasis. And psoriatic arthritis. And to make my immune system settle down and stop fighting my own skin, chemo it is. Methotrexate, to be precise. With three pages of patient warnings that I actually read, even though the font is teensy.
To coin an original phrase, this sucks. Hopefully it will suck less than waking up frantically scratching in the middle of the night. Hopefully it will suck less than needing help putting on a bra.
Hopefully it will suck less than being The Human Snowglobe.
At this point, poison seems to be the lesser of a stack of evils. I might lose my hair. I might get a legendary case of nausea. I might have beneficial change at the cellular level that results in a complete remission of the patterned afghan that my skin has become.
What scares me most about all of this is the tiredness. Fatigue makes it hard to care. And not caring makes it hard to fight. Energy is welcome. And since giving up coffee had no effect on this crap at all…so is Mr. Java.