Sitting at the glass table. No desk. Beggers can’t be choosers even if the overpriced loft isn’t actually nearly as good as a similarly priced apartment. Yay me.
The fireplace doesn’t work. But it is a lovely place to stick the TV.
The internet (WIFI) is FREE… but the laughing orange blinky light that says that the modem (which one has to assume is located somewhere in the vast underbelly of the industrial loft complex) is not working. It was blinking Wednesday all day. It was blinking Thursday all day. It was working for about an hour after I got off work yesterday (Friday) but alas and alack when I got up this morning, the blinking orange eye pokes fun at me again.
I guess I’m glad that I downloaded the pictures to my computer when I did. Because now… I’m using my phone as my only link to the outside world. Good thing I was grandfathered in to the unlimited data plan. My laptop picked a fine time to give up the ghost… I can’t take this desktop computer to McDonalds to use their free WIFI (that works).
It will have been five weeks this coming Monday since my last Orencia infusion. I’m still taking my MTX injections (I’m actually proud that I’m able to give them to myself while I’m here in corporate housing alone). They weren’t doing the whole job before. They aren’t doing the whole job now.
I’m exhausted. My hands are feeling like they are asleep. My fingers ache. These things I’m kind of used to. The tingly and the achy in my hands happen about 3.5 weeks anyway. It creeps in slowly and by the 4th week I’m just ready for the drugs. The exhausted I could probably try to put down to the stress of buying a house and moving and the new job and blah blah blah blah blah. But I know it has a lot to do with the fact that I’m not even marginally controlled right at the moment.
This morning (despite trying to sleep on the bed rather than the very worn and broken down leather couch or loveseat that are in the living room that I usually try to sleep on because the thermostat keeps the living room at a reasonably constant temperature) I ache… everywhere. My back is complaining when I bend. My wrists are bitching rather loudly no matter what I do. When I close my hands into fists my knucles resist and kvetch. My feet are floofy and starting to feel the tingly that I usually only feel in my hands. I think five weeks is too long to wait.
I am making my notes for my new Rheumy. I go in 50 hours. Not that I’m counting or anything. And then I have to wait for her to get the approvals for my Orencia from my new insurance company. I know I’m at least another 2 weeks from the (I hope that my body doesn’t get pissed again at the loss of it’s drugs and figure piss on this I’m not going to respond anyway) insurance company.
I eye the prednisone bottles on the counter longingly. But I want to give the doctor an accurate representation of what my reality is. So I leave them sit. For now. It calls to me. I know it will take the inflammation down and make me ache less and feel more human. But I know it will mask what is really going on. So I put it off until at least after the doctor on Monday.
Yesterday I was looking to take two napproxen. I needed to take the edge off. I’m exhausted (have I mentioned that??? ). I have a BUNCH of meds that have been perscribed for this or that. They are sitting in bottles on the counter. One is for industrail strength napproxen. One is for percocet. I picked the wrong bottle. I took 2 percocet and headed happily off to work. And got incredibly loopy and sleepy and pukey. I didn’t hurt, but for several hours I felt incredibly crappy. Yay me. I’m packing the percocet up and putting them in the storage unit I’m renting today to put stuff in until I can actually move into the new house.
Today… I hope I will start to feel like I’m making progress. I am packing up some of the stuff that we brought up that I thought I might want access to (and that I have been glad to have had access to) and putting it in a storage unit in the new town. Closing on the new house is supposed to be in TEN days. Just one week and a weekend.
Then we will almost all be together again. My little boy is staying behind. I miss him. But he’s a grown man and I know that no matter what he will always be my little boy and I will always be here for him.
I’m ready to be hooked up to my infusion bag again. But for now, I’m toughing it out and trying to keep on keeping on…
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