been meaning to do this a long time, I hope I can remember
everything! My poor old head gets leakier every week.
Most of us remember
to the last little detail what was said and what was happening
on the day they were diagnosed with HepC. I remember when
I got it, but I didn't know it, so here's a little story...
It was July, 1976,
my boyfriend Sam and I were in Santa Fe. I remember the fireworks
were spectacular that night in some park where everyone laid
down to drink beer and margaritas and to watch fireworks.
We decided to get married when we got back to Lubbock, sometime
after I finished the current semester of summer school. I
was taking both semesters of government at the same time,
and had the final to take when we got back. I didn't study
on our vacation, but I wasn't too worried, I earned the 6
hrs in course work just by showing up everyday that semester!
July 8th - I made
an A for showing up to take the final in the course, so I
did go take the final, but I don't remember doing it. I know
what we had planned that day, and have vague memories of some
of it. We were on the way to the courthouse to get a marriage
license when a little old lady in an Oldsmobile hit us in
my Toyota. Sam's forehead was caved in, and he's spent most
of the time since then in the school for the blind. He's about
12, now, but he knows me. My family took him in after he was
released from the hospital and cared for him until he was
strong enough to go to the blind place.
I got beat up pretty
good -10 days in ICU, lost my spleen - got a blood transfusion,
broke my noggin (yes, this chicken used to have a brain!)
and busted a knee so bad I wore a leg brace for a long long
time. It was towards the end of that time that I met my husband,
Patrick. We've been married 24 years and have 2 crazy boys.
Knowing when and
where you got HepC doesn't mean diddly-squat, you all know
that. It's what you did after you found out you had HepC that
I found out in
December, 1996, 20 years after the accident. The day after
Thanksgiving, I was convinced my mother-in-law was trying
to poison me, and for the next 3 weeks I suffered while the
stupid doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with me.
They finally took my gall bladder out the week before Christmas.
We were concerned
that they would have to open me back up all the way again,
like a gutted fish, because of scar tissue that may have been
formed when they removed my spleen. I got lucky, they did
it all with a scope. The surgeon decided my liver looked "funny"
and did a biopsy while he was there. I got the news just after
Christmas. And freaked out, didn't you?
Of course, I didn't
believe them, and I started researching on the internet. I
got angry and I got scared and I felt defeated and I found
a doctor and started doing interferon 3 times a week... As
of today, I've tried therapy 4 times. I don't think I will
do it again. This last time it really messed with my head.
And some of you saw how sick I was. Nasty stuff.
how many times have you had your blood work done in the past
6 months and how swollen can you get while we make guesses
about why you're so swollen?? LOL Because my liver is congested,
you nit-wit! Oh, not you, you're not a nit-wit, the doctor
is. And pain, that defeats me and depresses me more than just
about anything. Now I go to the gastro every 6 months (next
one will do it every 3 months, bet you!) and almost weekly
to the internist.
Nobody wanted to
prescribe anything for depression, so I go to a psychiatrist
just to get that. Damn crook tried to kill me, sure did make
me hear voices, and I'm trying to get away from him but I
do love being able to sleep at night. Right now he's got me
on an anti-psychotic, I take half of what he thinks I need
to take and refused to take another pill he wanted me to take,
too. Y'all watch them damn doctors! They will really mess
Oh! I forgot!
The most important thing! I finally found Heppolandia and
I'm not ever leaving. I don't know what I would do without
my heppo family, thank you one and all, I love you! BWAK!
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