I’ve reached the point where it is hard to remember what those glorious days were like just after my IV infusion therapy. Actually, I reached that point not very long after the therapy. I am so sad at how little difference it made afterwards.
Probably the one plus is that my rescue medications work better than they did before. I can actually get some relief when I take them now but slowly and surely that perk is diminishing.
My doctor put me on another preventative that didn’t help so now I am starting yet another. It is a never-ending trial and error roller coaster that I desperately want to get off.
After my appointment this morning, I came home and sobbed. I just get so frustrated that eventually the hopeless feelings have to pour out. I caught myself thinking all kinds of depressing thoughts and just let the tears fly.
It all just builds up and I can’t put on a smiling face anymore. I can’t stand to say I’m OK when I’m really not. So I sit by myself and fall apart.
It is a bad day. The pain is high and my spirit is low. I will cross all my fingers and toes and beg for a little Irish good luck for the next preventative. It’s a cousin of one of tried before that tends to have less side effects. I guess we shall see.
Dare I hope?
Linking up with Shell for the first time in forever.