a different kind of bad day

sometimes, i feel like anger is the only thing keeping me upright.

today is one of those days.

i'm just so aggravated at the way september is drifting away from me, just like the last 4 months. nothing but cancelled plans and false hopes and waiting. oh, and pain and bleeding.

i got my magic double-dose of remicade on the 16th. this was finally supposed to do the trick. i boarded the plane on the 17th, wearing a diaper out of equal parts practicality and paranoia. it ended up being unnecessary, thank goodness. i thought, maybe it worked! i would be able to enjoy my anniversary vacation with DH. nope.

halfway on the way to orlando on the 18th, my guts started churning. i had been taking anaspaz and it did nothing. i sat in the port lucie rest area for a good half hour. it was incredibly awful. i called my doc back in nj and begged for something, anything he could do. the doc on call gave me 40 mg pred to pickup at a walgreens in orlando and warned that it probably wouldn't take effect immediately. he said i could try immodium, but i knew from past experience that probably wouldn't work for me anymore either.

but we soldiered on, and i got dressed and did my makeup for the Disney Halloween night thinger we had tickets for and I had been looking forward to since my hospital stay in May. we decided to get dinner near our hotel instead of in the park in order to give my guts extra time to settle down. during the meal, i realized i would never be settled down in time. i enjoyed my crab shack munchies and surrendered to UC. You win this time, you bastard.

back in the room, i ended up passing out asleep before 10 pm. the next day we did a little walking around at this safari thing, and i got completely exhausted. good thing we had skipped disney. i spent almost the entire vacation sleeping.

i overslept sunday and missed the beach. we got back on the plane, no diaper this time, and had an uneventful drive home.

today was back at work, and i don't even feel like i went on vacation. i feel like i was just asleep on a car, then on a plane, then on a car, then on a plane. like everything else the last four months, the good times were too fleeting, and the rest of the time was either in pain or asleep.

this whole month has kinda sucked. it started with getting sick from the NIN show and being too tired to move. Then we got that fucking letter from the landlord on the friday of labor day weekend that exterminators were coming that week! they had been in my house and handled my bed linens and didn't even leave a fucking note. we came in the house and wondered who tore up our bed. then we found the letter. i had to cancel plans (working on the game for the 12th) and clean for 3 fucking days. don't forget, this whole time, my UC was crazy flaring, because i'm waiting for my magical remicade on the 16th. nobody can do shit to make me feel better. all i do is go get poked and prodded like a good little patient. a short week, then out to PA, where I still feel absolutely horrible, to go set up and run this damn game in the rain. i did the scoring in the ladies room. immodium stopped working permanently. meanwhile, the husband and the cats were holed up in a hotel waiting for the exterminators to finish my building. then they told us they were coming back! i still couldn't freaking unpack. all my clothes, everything, is packed up in boxes and stacked. now i have to pack for FL and can't find a fucking thing. I have an accident at work on monday and ruin the only pants i didn't pack. i can barely move on tuesday. i drag myself to remicade on wednesday, forget to premedicate because everything is packed, but everything goes well. except that afterward, i'm a zombie, and i pass out at home and never make it to work. i sat down at noon and woke up at 3:30. i check my email from home and realized i fucked up an important project by being sick all week. i scramble to get at least something ready, but it's not good enough. the customer is pissed, the rep is pissed, and she scolds me on email, over the phone, and writes to my manager and the director of sales. not my best day. we get home last night to another letter from the landlord, saying that they heard we had "unclean" living conditions and were going to inspect our apartment on the 21st. fuck you, landlord. i wish i could give you my toxic flu and see how clean you keep your fucking house.

if it were any one thing, i could probably deal with it, but it's too much. also, my anemia has gotten worse and i have to double up on my iron supplements and do another round of procrit. i guess the silver lining is that if this past weekend means i failed on remicade, then i'm done with those 3 hour infusions. hopefully, i can go on humira, and just stick myself every other week. good timing too - i'm out of days off for the year. i don't even have half a sick day to use to go to infusion without getting docked.

life has a strange sense of humor - guess i'm lucky this failed. if it had worked, I'd be stuck getting a few days pay taken out of my check at the end of the year. awesome.

so is the pred helping? i guess. the only real difference is that the funky orange slime has been replaced by horrendously foul black/green slime. am i still bleeding? fucked if i know.