Week 8 from Baseline

This week has been a week of 8s. If the Chinese numerology is to be believed, I should put away my laptop, get into my car, drive in a straight line to number 8 Whiteman Street, find the nearest Roulette table and bet everything on 8 black. On Monday the 8th, I celebrated my 8th wedding anniversary. Tuesday marked another anniversary involving the number 8. This time, it was my 8 week anniversary of my relationship with Adalimumab and my participation in the medical trial. To celebrate that milestone, a visit to K was in order.

At week 4, I was informed I was deficient in a type of white blood cell called Neutrophils. At that visit, they took more blood and I was keen for the results. Fortunately, my Neutrophil count is one again as it should be so it appears that around four weeks ago, I picked up a virus and my Neutrophils put on their fatigues and war paint and went into battle. I am very pleased with my immune system. It still appears to have satisfactory capabilities to it and the TFN blocker that I may or may not be receiving haven’t yet smashed it into oblivion.

Gooooooood little system-y solder. I love you.

On Monday, those following my twitter meanderings might have seen this.

'Grrrrrrrrrrr hip flare up! Owwwwwwww, oh for fucks sake' hashtagged with #spondyloarthritis

On Tuesday my hip hadn’t improved but at least, this time, the pain was limited to the left hip and not both hips. Flames found all the evidence she needed of my flare up. Not only did she find evidence there, but also in many of my joints and the various other areas she likes to poke and grope. I believe it was the first time I’ve been in the middle of a flare up whilst at K. Certainly it has been the visit where I lost count the number of times I delivered ‘yep’ and ‘ouch’.

I was also honest about the amount of pain pills I’d swallowed recently along with my increased stress levels. After all, given that I blog about it, there’s really no point trying to hide it. Even if I didn’t blog about it there would still be no point in hiding it given the codeine shows up in my blood tests.

For some reason, my CO is insisting that I should shoot the Adalimumab into the upper thigh because other patients are telling her that jabbing into the upper thigh is much less painful than jabbing into the stomach. My problem with this theory is that I vividly recall a moment in my past when, as a result of being a recipient of one of these ‘painless’ jabs I couldn’t stop the expulsion of a blood-curdling scream while being inside a doctor’s clinic and almost needing to be physically restrained.

Awful awful memories.

Admittedly, I was a 9yo at the time but that matters not. The fact remains is that I attribute a jab in the upper thigh once as the most horrifying and painful experience of my life up, at least up until that moment, and I no desire to entertain the thought of having a jab there again. I fully appreciate logic plays no part in my reasoning but then again what fears are ever based on logic?

CO: Other people are telling me that it’s much less painful to inject into the upper-thigh.
Me: Ahhhhh, no.
CO: You really should. I’m told it’s much better.
Me: No it won’t be.
CO: Go on. Do it.
Me: I’d rather go to jail.
CO: Really? But you’re concerned over nothing.
Me: I don’t care what anyone else says. I’m not doing it.
CO: Awww, go on.
Me: No.
CO: Do it.
Me: Make me.

Later on, after Flames had been and gone, I pick up the syringe to administer the Adalimumab. As I did so, told her about the residual pain after my last jab two weeks ago and I joked that I must have jabbed an intestine (which really isn’t possible).

CO: You know where you don’t have intestines? In your thigh.

Smart arse.