Infusion Day

Infusion Day. Not always the best day for me but necessarily the worst day either.  This particular visit has me 2-weeks past my regularly scheduled appointment, due to a recent strep/sinus infection.  For those who don't know,  I get an infusion of Remicade every 6-weeks.   "REMICADE is a biologic therapy that recognizes, attaches to, and blocks the action of a protein in your body called tumor necrosis factor alpha (TNF-alpha). TNF-alpha is made by certain blood cells in your body."   Most days, since my diagnosis, I'm have a pretty up-beat, easy-going, deal-with-the-cards-I've-been-dealt kind of attitude but today, not so much.  


"Mrs. Baumann", the nurse calls as she opens the door.  I smile.  "You ready?"    "As I'll ever be." I say.  So with that, I put on my "happy face" and walk into the infusion room.  The infusion room isn't much to brag about.  It's a small room that holds 4 hospital-issued, blue recliners, a couple desks for the nurses and a nurse workstation.  For our entertainment, however, they have a 13" tv mounted on the wall which, btw, doesn't get the best reception.  We make small talk while they are taking my vitals, poking my left arm with the IV needle (I prefer the left side so I can still use my right hand) and setting up my IV stand with my meds.  The drip starts and now I sit.  Being hooked up to an IV machine for 2.5+ hours was not in my "long-term",  or "short-term" for that matter, life plans.  I didn't ask for this.  I don't want this.  I'm certainly not feeling sorry for myself because that isn't going to make me feel better or make this RA go away.  I just get ANGRY at what this "disease" can do to people. 


I also watch.  I watch people come into this small room with pain on their faces.  Some walk with a limp because RA has effected their hips.  Some use a walker because they just can't walk without help.    Others have issues with their hands, back, and shoulders.  And then there is me.  I can walk fine.  I can still use my hands, with some limitations,  so I should be thankful, Right?!  But  I can't help but wonder what lies ahead.  What is going to be taken away from me as I get older?   Will I be able to do ALL the things  I enjoy most?  Running?  Stand-up Paddling? Yoga?   Are my hands going to be deformed?  Will it make me ugly? (Yes, I know that sounds vain but... )  Deep sigh!  My thoughts are taking me down a road I don't like to visit often.  Now I'm sad.   I hold myself together until  the infusion is finished but when I get into my car, the tears begin to fill my eyes.  They start slow but then quickly it turns into a good ol' fashion, sobbing, soul-cleansing  cry.   


"Damn it, Kelli", I say, "pull yourself together!"    And just like that, I wipe my tears and pull myself up by my running shoes.   


I believe that I have been given a voice to raise  the awareness of rheumatoid arthritis.  Now, how I'm going to use that voice?  That is what I'm going to figure out but I'm pretty sure it will have something to do with running and our stand-up paddling!   


to be continued.....