Michelle's POZ Blog

I made it back from my appointment with the liver specialist. Of course when you go to doctors now a days, it seems you always meet an intern first. I began to feel like a contestant on a game show. Now what shall I call it? Not sure what to call it but I felt like I was part of a speed round with questions like--- What are the medicines you are taking? And since I am proactive when it comes to my health, I fired the answers back at him. Maybe a little too fast for Junior because he asked, "What was the one after Atripla?" And I answered back sweetly, "Uh, that would be Ziagen" and I began spelling it for him. Then he went on to tell me that they were waiting for the results of my cat scan to be faxed over and that the doctor would be with me shortly. And out the door he went. Not a minute later, Junior was back with another question, "What was your last cd4 count?" You're going to have to do better than that Sunshine, if you're going to try to stump me. I politely smiled and said, "401 in February". This was beginning to be fun and it did cause me to relax a little. Back out the door went Junior.

A few minutes passed and Junior was back again but this time with a wicked little grin on his face. He went on to tell me that they needed to do a quick little test to check for something, I forget what it was called. What stuck with me was the fact that the test consisted of him sticking his finger up my ass.Or there was option B which consisted of me mailing them in a stool sample. Payback was a bitch and Junior got his because I was not with sending feces through the mail. I had to admit, Junior won me over even though his finger was in my ass. And it was over before I had a chance to complain. He was gone again.

When he returned, he had the specialist with him who indeed had me stumped with all the medical jargon he was using. All I understood was that I needed to get a sonogram done of my liver and gallbladder as well as a colonoscopy done. Junior must've relayed my fears about a biopsy being done because the specialist made a joke about he'll be in and out before I knew it. Did I mention I was not amused by his joke, not that it mattered because he was gone before I could even ask a question. It was just me and Junior again. So I asked him to explain to me what the specialist had said which was, the cat scan showed some type of thickness on my intestinal wall along with a shadow of something. What they are not sure of yet which is why they want to do the colonoscopy. But they also want to do the sonogram to check my gallbladder and liver to see what the lump is I am feeling. When Junior checked me, he couldn't feel any lumps and in a polite kind of way, hinted that it may be fat that has accumulated. I think Junior was just trying to get me back for that humiliation I handed him during our game show speed round.

The sonograms are scheduled for next week sometime and the colonoscopy is scheduled for June 5th. Let the games begin.....

As if i don't have enough on my plate with the latest about my lung and liver, now my youngest son has gone to jail. This happened yesterday and it was in the local paper today as well as the local tv news yesterday. My son has eleven charges against him, among them attempted homicide and seven counts of reckless endangerment. His bond is a hundred thousand dollars and he is only seventeen.

Of course, I had to hear the news from the sister who I don't get along with and the one I let raise him. As usual, she is being dramatical about it all. I had to hear the ever famous, "I didn't raise him to be like this" but in reality she did raise him to be like this. She was the one who insisted on someone showing him how to sell drugs in the first place but she doesn't know that I even know that. And I was told this by my son and it was confirmed by my other sister on two different occasions. All I could do was sit there, listen to her bullshit and grit my fucking teeth. At the same time, I had to calm myself down because I know the rage I was feeling was not helping my immune system or the other things going on with my body.

Today wasn't any better. I got a few calls from my son which tore at my heart. But at the same time, my son was fully aware of what he was doing regardless of the countless times I have tried to talk to him. I had to listen to the sadness and what I thought sounded like regret in his voice. But I had to remind him that if he only would've listened to me that he would not be in the mess he is in. I explained to him that I would do what I could which is put a couple of bucks on his books and write. I told him I loved him. You can only say so much in a three minute call. At the moment he is in the county prison but with the charges he is facing they will be moving him to an out of state prison once he gets sentenced. My child being charged as an adult, going to a place where everyone is bigger than him and older than him. I can't help but worry for my son and be scared for him.

Once again, I am left feeling angry, not just at my son for his stupidity but angry at my God/dess. I am left asking again, why this is happening to me? Though it is not directly happening to me, I can't help but to be affected. This is my baby, going to jail and being tried as an adult. His youth--- gone! And when I see him again, he will be a grown man. Notice I say when and not if because even with the latest events, I still plan on being here or so I hope.

I guess my last words for this entry should be: "Is there a lawyer in the house?"

For those of you who don't follow the forums, let me update you on what's going on now. On the fourteenth of this month, I had an appointment with my primary doctor. I had not seen him since last September which is about the time my car went down. The appointment was basically to catch up with things and to let him know about two lumps I had been feeling since around Easter. He checked me, felt the lumps and scheduled a cat scan of my stomach. I went to the hospital closest to my house this past Monday to get it done.

It was already evident that something is amiss since the lumps are there. I have since gotten the results back. I have a lesion which is about 2.1 centimeters on my liver and a cyst on my left lung. I found this out yesterday. I think even the doctor's office felt bad for me, I could hear it in the nurse's tone when she was talking to me. It was almost as if she wished she didn't have to be the one to tell me the news. Who could blame her, how do you tell someone who is poz, diabetic, and partially deaf this type of news? She did and I broke down on the phone, trying to talk through the rush of tears.

I called my clinic nurse, told her the results and that I think my HIV meds are the culprit. She went on to tell me that she thought I hadn't been on them long enough for something like this to happen but was worried about my mental state...ie...my depression and a trip back to the hospital. I assured her that was not the case that more than anything I am scared. She told me she would relay the news to my ID doc and get back with me.

And since then I have been through a flood of emotions. I am scared and angry. Scared because this is new territory for me. I have never broken a bone or anything. The only surgery I have ever had was three C-sections. I know they will end up having to probably do something invasive. What worries me is the fact that my mother and father both died from cancer. What worries me is the fact that at this point I don't know where my cd4 and viral load are. In February, they were 401 and undetectable. I am scared of what effects this will have on my body. The primary doctor's nurse tried to assure me that it probably isn't cancer but I know she was trying to ease my mind and have me not worry but I can't help but to worry.

I am angry because I feel like I have enough shit on my plate and I don't need this at all. Who does, right? I feel like my God/dess has a mean sense of humor, forsaken me and I am pissed. I am tired of having to always ask why things are happening to me and what I did to deserve this. Despite the feeling of losing my faith, I still have the urge to fight and refuse to go out without a fight.

I have appointments to see two different specialists on April 30th and May 12th. My faith is gone but my anger is strong and if I am to get through this, it may be my anger I need to lean on instead of faith.

With all the bitching and moaning I have been doing lately, I thought I would take the time to distract everyone and talk about my virus. Or why I don't talk about it. I am sure there are a few of you wondering about that considering it is suppose to be a poz blog and my fellow bloggers seem to talk about it in every entry.

My virus and I have been together for going on eleven years this year. I just started meds September of last year and within a month I was undetectable. But for ten years, me and my virus kind of co-existed without any problems. Not sure why that is, could be I have a mild strain or maybe genetics, who knows but I do consider myself to be more blessed than lucky. And how I look at it, if there isn't anything going on why bitch. But don't get it twisted, my virus does let me know it's still around with an occasional bout of something or other. Nothing really major like an OI. The worst for me at the moment seems to be thrush for which I am taking Dapsone but hopefully by my next appointment I'll be taken off of it. Physically I have been fine in regard to my virus. If anything, my diabetes (which I've only had a few years and am on pills for that) gives me more hell than my virus.

If I had to comment on how my virus has affected me, I would say it has been more emotional than physical. All of us pozzies knows the stages....denial, being ashamed, feeling dirty, asking what have I done to deserve this and the list goes on. Not to say I am over it, every now and again one of those stages still hits me----loneliness(sp?) Wanting to be with someone but afraid of the rejection because of the countless times I have been rejected.

Til this day, I have not found the solution but support and it has helped me. I still don't have the support of my family, they kind of ignore it until they want to use it against me(my sisters). My son, he accepts me and I guess I am the perfect example of why you should wear a condom. He hasn't said this but it's merely how I look at it. It doesn't bother me in the least, I want my son to learn from my mistakes. He keeps his johnson wrapped up and I am proud. When he has questions about stds, he comes to me for answers. Nothing is out of bounds between us.

My biggest support has been the forums. Despite the drama, there are good people there and knowledge. Even this blog has been a form of support to me also. It let's me put my feelings out there instead of keeping them bottled in which I have done for ten years. Trust me, it's good to let some of the shit go.

I guess this entry is an update on some things I had mentioned in previous entries or in the forums. I hate to have to say this but feels I need to because some people will think I am asking for pity, charity or to be coddled when in reality, I am not asking for any of those things. I need to vent, that is what this is about because about now I feel like crying, shouting, breaking shit and just giving up. What little glimmer of hope I had is diminished and the faith for good things to come is gone. Basically, I feel one step from being broken.

Let's start with the car since that seemed to have so many in an uproar around here. The car is physically here but with a list a mile long of what needs to be done to fix it. Out of the money, I had gotten from my clothing allowance, I spent fifty bucks to get the rotors and the brakes. My roomie (who happens to be a female) is a mechanic, just doesn't have the money to set up her own business. According to her, she feels the mechanic who had the car is trumping up the list a mile long but agrees in order for it to pass inspection it will need better tires. As I have mentioned before I have called many places and even today, a friend took me to a junkyard who actually had a set of four tires which were like new but the price was a buck eighty. Did I mention the place that I called originally who had the used tires called me back and the price went up. It started out being a hundred dollars but has now gone up to a hundred and ninety. Hmm, wonder why that is?

Then to make matters worse, yesterday, I happen to get in the car to start it up and it didn't start right away. I thought that was weird considering the battery in the car came from my Caprice so it should start right up.The battery was just over a year old and under warranty from Auto Zone. I mention this to my roomie who after hearing how the car sounded asked me to raise the hood. Come to find out, my fucking battery isn't in the car at all, it's a totally different battery. At this point, I am fucking livid. I guess the mechanic wasn't expecting me to notice. The reason I did notice is because this is actually the second battery I have lost trying to put into this car. Each time the bastards swapped batteries thinking I wouldn't notice. And one thing that burns my ass is when someone tries my intelligence. Just like a battery dying, my faith and hope died too. I called Auto Zone, they have it in their computer when I bought the battery. I could go to the mechanic and bitch but what good will that do? He probably will try to deny it and I don't want a battery that is laying around his garage. I want the one I paid for!!!!

Next on the hit parade, was the house I was hoping to get. That's not happening now. I called my landlord to find out what was going on and he lost the bid for the house. Yeah, I know nothing that I could possibly have control over but to me, it is something I was hoping for that went down the crapper. I can't even see a bright side or anything to look forward to regarding the house. My landlord tried to encourage me by saying maybe he will have something by the time my Section 8 kicks in but in the meantime, I am still here in an apartment where I am paying out more in gas than what I pay for rent. Just fucking great.

And let's not forget the job I was hoping to get. I know what you guys are thinking, I lost out to someone else. Uh, no, I lost out to the guy who intended to hire me. His ass went to jail last week and no one else in charge seemed to know anything about me getting the job. How's that for communication? I guess that's what I get for trying to get a piece of a job in the hood. I guess I bought those clothes for nothing now since the allowance was meant for me to have clothes for the job.

About now, I am feeling beaten, broken, disgusted, without hope or any other adjective you might want to throw in there. Keeping my head up and keeping the faith is not likely. For what it's worth, I have my health which is two diseases that is beating the hell out of my body. What a life, I guess the purpose of my life is to be in a constant struggle whether it be health wise or financially. If this is life maybe death would be a blessing.