Crashing Halt. Numbing Pain.

I noticed that my journal has been really quiet this year. So far, 9 entries total since January. Nothing in the past month and a half. And you’ve most likely noticed too; I apologize.

You see, I’ve had a bad month. Really bad. July started with a wimper, went out with a sigh. The 4th of July wasn’t kind to me; it was raining pleasantly, but I stayed inside instead of watching the fireworks downtown. Had coffee, got a migraine, went home early. The rest of that week, I started hurting in my lower abdomen; thought it was gas pain, so I lived on a diet of simethicone and wheat bread. No luck. That friday, I started hurting worse at work. I went home after work and stayed home instead of going to the usual friday night gathering I do. Tried laying down, sitting down, standing up, walking around, nothing I did could alleviate the pain in my lower-right abdomen. It was then that it struck me: that’s where my appendix is. I knew I needed to go to the ER, so I cleaned up, prepped some things in case I needed to be hospitalized, and my roomate took me there.

A urine test, blood test, CT scan (complete with having to drink a half liter of barium sulfate on a nauseous stomach), a prostate check, and two shots of morphine later (because of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced), the doctor sent me home with a prescription of Ciprofloxacin (an antibiotic) and a treatment plan for…prostatitis. I had a prostate infection. How? I don’t know. But it hurt.

My fever came and went that weekend, and the infection started going away. In my followup appointment with my regular doctor, he cut my four-week prescription regimen down to three, stating that the extra week is really just overkill. So, after experiencing the bad side effects for a few days, I didn’t argue the point.

Well, the side effects are thus: stomach pain, depression, fatigue, susceptibility to tendonitis and tendon damage, and in some extreme cases, paranoia. Basically, I sat like a lump from the time I got home from work until I went to bed, where I laid like a lump and had fitful sleep broken up by extreme dreams, another side effect.

I knew I had stuff I could do. I knew I could have been writing about it, getting it all off my chest, putting out the painful personal truths that I was seeing in my lowered state. But I lost my motivation, lost my drive. Nothing mattered, nothing meant anything. I just sat there at my desk and watched TV. Tuned in, dropped out. For a month. I knew the depression was due to the Cipro, but at times I could not be sure.

Well, my last dose was the last friday of the month, almost a week ago. I felt fine and was glad to have finished the regimen. Except I felt a tenderness in my middle back, near my kidneys. A secondary infection? I dunno, but by monday I was fine. Until this morning when I started feeling more pangs in my lower abdomen again. So, I’ve been taking it easy, pushing the fluids, taking the cranberry pills, loosening my belt. I put myself back on the Cipro tonight; already feeling the twisting of my stomach. If nothing is better by monday, then I’ll see the doc again.

Seems every time I make a journal entry, it’s bad health news. Maybe I’m turning the corner at the old age of 34. It’s all downhill from here. I dunno, it’s just that I have things to say, but no will to post them for the world to see when really they’re kinda personal thoughts. I have some further issues to deal with there, and now that I’m back on the Cipro, it won’t get any easier.

Published by Shawn

He's just this guy, you know?