Most days I feel like the little engine that could. I persuade myself to do some more, get on with it, push through. You know all the aphorisms about sucking it up, pulling up yourself up by your bootstraps, and finding this to be a character-building experience. What doesn't kill us and all that.
Yawn. This is just plain tiresome. Although I no longer have methotrexate-induced nausea I feel nauseous every day. I'm pretty sure it is the vitamins and once I've taken my meds, had a cup of tea, had my supplement drink and tried to get some breakfast down my neck I typically feel pretty gross. I've found Glutino cereal bars really helpful in getting through the nausea. They're a perfect snack size and with some green tea they seem to calm the churning in my stomach. I used to really enjoy eating and the ritual of food, but lately even chewing is a task.
Work is a chore, too. It is busy right now and I just can't focus on anything and I blame the prednisone. I find myself making perpetual to do lists that seem only to get longer. It takes forever to get ready for work between the aches, the stiffness, the pills, the nausea and the fatigue. Even on prednisone I'm still pretty crushed by fatigue. My administrative assistant handed in her notice so now I have to go through the hiring and training process which means being at the office far more than I have been. And the spring semester is looming along with an 8:00am twice-a-week teaching obligation to 90+ sophomores. I can only hope I am able to get up early enough to make it to class.
The same "little engine that could" mentality plays out in my mind when I think about the methotrexate. I've been taking it for eight weeks and I'm hard pressed to know whether it has made any difference. I think it has, I think it has. I hope it has.
My good friend reminded me this weekend that my current situation is not permanent. With medication this too shall pass. It is hard to remember this when every moment is overtaken with a drive to assess my body for joint pain, stiffness, swelling, nausea, potential flares and a need to compare whatever symptoms I'm experiencing to some other point in time. A daily and weekly comparative benchmarking process. I stare at my hands and feet as though I might just see something happening.
Work, chores, illness, life. I think I can. I think I can.