I Used to Like Shots of Tequila on a Thursday Night

When I first got diagnosed with Crohn's, I went in for a four-hour IV treatment every eight weeks. I got a hefty dose of Benedryl first thing when I got there to prevent any reactions to the medicine and it knocked me out.

My mom was really curious about what went down in the old Ambulatory Surgery Unit at Boulder Community Hospital and wanted to go with me for one treatment. I didn't think it would be too much fun for her to watch me zonk out for four hours, but moms can be weird that way. She thought it was pretty fascinating.

My medicine options have come a long way in the last five years. For a while I gave myself a shot using an epi pen every two weeks, which I wasn't very good at doing. It wasn't even the needle that was scary - it was the clicking sound that the stupid pen made that freaked me out and made me misfire (multiple times). I eventually got the hang of it though. Now I'm on a medicine where a lovely nurse comes to the house to give me a shot every 4 weeks.

The medicine (Cimzia) arrives in an oh-so-eco-friendly over sized Styrofoam package complete with chemical ice packs and bubble wrap. There were a few months in there where I had to fight with my insurance company over medicine and was amazingly relieved to finally see my environmental hazard of a package arrive.

This medicine gets administered by a nurse who comes to the house. At first, I thought this was overkill. I did master the epi pen (eventually). Even knowing that the medicine needs to be mixed together using various needles to transfer from vial to vial to syringe, I thought I could handle it. What I couldn't handle is the hard jab required to get the shot into your skin. And since Cimzia is covering even the copay for my insurance in return for my opinion on the drug, I'm more than happy to have a mad chemist/nurse do the shot part. One less thing to worry about.

The nurse is always kind enough to remark on how little flab there is to pinch for the shot. I think her other patients must be huge, or that's just nice nurse small talk because there is more than enough to grab in my opinion. The jab usually doesn't hurt, but the medicine can sometimes sting. And at the end of the day, I have two little marks on my stomach that I cover with band aids and then watch with amazement as they bruise and then fade over the next week.

I just got a shot tonight - let's hope that it kicks in and coaxes my digestive system into behaving nicely going forward.

My Favorite Hobby

A study in Anne worrying about something

I always find it funny when folks perceive me as a go-with-the-flow, laid back person because that is not who lives in my head. I'm a complete worrier - just give me something to worry about and I'll find every last nuanced detail to explore. I must just have a very peaceful look on my face whilst I worry away.

My latest worry: Crohn's is kicking my ass this summer. I'm taking about 9 pills every night and getting monthly shots of Cimzia. And that's on a night when I'm not in pain. I've had about two good weeks since my doctor put me on a whole lot more Prednisone. Unfortunately for my face, Prednisone does more to make me break out than a heaping dose of hormones when I was a teenager.

So two weeks of a high dose of Prednisone and I'm feeling pretty good. And then last night I start feeling the same pain as before. The truth is, I used to power through the pain and try my best to not let Crohn's get in the way of life. I have things I want to do, and sitting around being sick is not on the to-do list.

I feel better today, but have to admit to being worried about what this means. Dr. Guts sent me in for screenings that aren't showing anything crazy wrong (inflammation and narrowing at a previous surgery site are par for my course). I drank a glass of wine the other night and ate some raw summer squash yesterday. That's honestly what probably set off the pain. I'm a horrible person for wanting to enjoy a few summery things.

I need to give up wine for reals. Not for a few weeks, or for awhile, but forever. I need to become one of those folks that is a pain in the ass about what I eat. And that makes me sad.

I'm worried about not knowing why things aren't improving, and worried about how to make it better, and worried about how to respond to all the folks who have helpful ideas on what to do to fix things, and worried about feeling completely overwhelmed by all those ideas. I have no idea what the solution is. I don't think my doctor has any idea. And I'm fighting a whole lot of inertia (aside from worrying) about what to do next.

I <3 You Paint

I love paint. It truly is the cheapest way to make a huge difference in a space.

Case in point:

Me, seething with hate for the ugly brick fireplace wall

Me, seething with hate for all the mortar lines that needed to be primed and painted by hand

Not shown, me, in love with the final color.

Once we put away the shop vac and paint accoutrements, the room will be completely beautiful. At some point soon, we're going to paint the rest of the walls a light shade of gray. But in the meantime, two full weekend days, a gallon and a half of primer, half a gallon of paint, and a few paint splatters in the hair equal new love for our living room.