The Week, She Flew

Still More Questions than Answers

Salzburg, 2009. Beautiful memories.

A frustrating, yet productive doctor appointment. Don't think my GP can be consistently committed to this auto-immune journey I'm on. Sometimes he seems to be all-in and other visits he seems somewhat dismissive.

We have a plan... I gradually discontinue the Cymbalta I've been on since December 1st, for nerve pain. Already cut the dosage in half 3 weeks ago; now it goes away gradually over the next 7-10 days. It has to, since two documented side-effects are my most troubling current symptoms--fatigue and insomnia. So, I am set-up for a grab bag of consequences. A relief from the side effects? A return of the original nerve pain? A total absence of a SSRI, which I've had in one form or another for almost 20 years. Continuing and renewed auto-immune issues.

Best scenario: no anxiety, no nerve pain, lessening fatigue, better sleep, weight loss.
Time will tell. And, I'm to see a Rheumatologist at the end of April.

Oh, and then those nasty abscesses... A maintenance antibiotic cream to minimize the chance of infection, and "wait-and-see."

The Hot Seat

Just starting my day like any normal human. I was still a bit groggy, but quickly realized someting new and strange was happening. Nothing like experiencing boiling potty water. First it was warmish on my hiney, then steaming.

Definitely a high water table in Door County, with some predictable sewer whiffs. Do they heat the water every so often to keep down the fumes? Also, occasionally we noticed a sulfur smell (exinguished matches). Made me think of friends from years ago who kept matches in the WC. Strike a match: freshened air. So to speak...