I had my first infusion today. "Juice" is a much nicer term - with connotations of bright coloured juice franchises mixing the best healthy ingredients into a concoction that is gulped down quickly helping the consumer think they are doing something healthy for themselves. My "juice" is immunoglobin - a blood product that will probably make me feel much better. It was delivered to me intravenously for about three hours this morning.
I hate needles. Really hate them. Watching violent movies or TV is fine, but a shot of someone getting an injection, or intravenous drug use, and I squirm like a little child. So today, Jamie introduced me to the term "needle phobia". Great! They invent terms like this so I don't have to consider myself a woos; instead I can proudly wear the badge of having a phobia. This is a phobia I need to overcome, however, for there are plenty more needles and infusions to come.
They have diagnosed me with multifocal motor neuropathy. The language is important; I won't even get started on the medical terms just yet. I won't say "I have ...", because that implies ownership, a connection. Right now, I'm far more comfortable keeping it at a safe distance. "They diagnosed me ...", it's someone's medical opinion, that's all. So it's not "me".
Met Joe today. They can't even diagnose him. He has something similar, but it doesn't seem to be immune mediated. All they know is that the "juice" works. Recently, he had a relapse, and had to increase the frequency to two days every fortnight. He takes it pretty well. Surrounded by other people who are probably far sicker than me, I feel even more of a woos. Do I really have the right to feel sorry for myself? I'm not that sick, after all. Surely I can live with a few needles and getting juiced every month?
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