(not so) fun day
I don't feel quite so eloquent today, well, not that I'm ever eloquent...
Visited the urologist today. It was a really great visit, I'm not emptying completely and the options are miserable. I'm going back on a med I was using previously that may have had positive results and we'll see. After that, nasty things...
I stopped at the pharmacy because there are two things I think I need to feel comfortable with the needles in the house. One is a safe locked box for the medication in the fridge. Two is a safe, impenetrable disposal for the used needles and syringes. They didn't have any, but a women in line behind me said I could use an empty laundy detergent bottle. She was very helpful and seemed to want to share her experiences. In our brief conversation I learned that she had been on Rebif a few years ago. I didn't wask what her experience was like, I didn't ask her if she had MS, it seemed self-evident. She was a nice looking black woman maybe a few years older than me -- and she was in a wheelchair. I awkwardly excused myself, while a part wanted to stay and talk, a part was running scared at an all-too-real reminder of the seriousness of my diagnosis.
So, I ran home, got an ice cream sunday after dinner and decided I had to post this to get it out of my system.
Visited the urologist today. It was a really great visit, I'm not emptying completely and the options are miserable. I'm going back on a med I was using previously that may have had positive results and we'll see. After that, nasty things...
I stopped at the pharmacy because there are two things I think I need to feel comfortable with the needles in the house. One is a safe locked box for the medication in the fridge. Two is a safe, impenetrable disposal for the used needles and syringes. They didn't have any, but a women in line behind me said I could use an empty laundy detergent bottle. She was very helpful and seemed to want to share her experiences. In our brief conversation I learned that she had been on Rebif a few years ago. I didn't wask what her experience was like, I didn't ask her if she had MS, it seemed self-evident. She was a nice looking black woman maybe a few years older than me -- and she was in a wheelchair. I awkwardly excused myself, while a part wanted to stay and talk, a part was running scared at an all-too-real reminder of the seriousness of my diagnosis.
So, I ran home, got an ice cream sunday after dinner and decided I had to post this to get it out of my system.
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