Monday, July 9, 2012
¿Que pasó a La Coja? Or where did she go?
typhoid in San Fidel. On the upside girls, I fit back in my skinny jeans. 2. Nov 2010- I developed a case of walking pneumonia and strep so severe it took a month of antibiotics to see my throat. After getting my share of communicable diseases, I made the wrenching decision to return to the United States, a very painful choice I still lament today. 3. Nov 2010-April 2011- Even though I was back in the United States, I continued to get sick with upper respiratory infections bimonthly while I continued with Orencia, an anti-Rheumatoid Arthritis drug. 4. May 2011- By the time May rolls around, my former rheumatologist finally gets off his bum and decides to test me for Primary Immune Deficiency Disease (PIDD), a condition in which one is missing one or more antibodies. 5. July 2011- I am in fact diagnosed with PIDD and am taken off Orencia and all other anti-Rheumatic drugs. My only treatment: a unique combination of Vicodin and steroids with the result being moments of excruciating pain, crying jags, raging over lack of Diet Coke availability and being absolutely fascinated by Scooby Doo episodes. 6. August 2011- I start IVIG or as it’s known around here, Hobo Juice. I take it at home, infusion-style once-month and it works like all drugs are advertised. 6. March 2012- I am finally allowed to start Remicade, a so-far excellent anti-rheumatic drug after more than half of a year with NO treatment. On a lark, I decide to apply to for a Master’s of Interpretation at a prestigious school in California. 7. April 2012- I am accepted into school with scholarship, surprisingly the hell out of me and decide to move to Mexico for the summer to increase my grammatical skills in May. 8. June 2012- Well, after three glorious weeks back in the home country with friends and family, my health took a turn for the worst. After a hospital stay and an ultimatum from my former rheumatologist, I had no choice but to return to the US once again. (Collective sigh) The point of this blog is not to feel pity for me (to quote a great friend and disability advocate, “Piss on Pity”), nor wonder what in the world I’m doing with my life (although trust me, I wonder that daily too. I don’t know quite what will happen after this, but all I ask is you just take my crooked hand and see how high we can fly. After all, Superman too had a disability.