Chemo for lupus? #findacure
My Momma asked me what it feels like going through methotrexate infusions yesterday. I was so in it, I just answered like I am burning all over and just want to be alone.
The intensity is so hard to describe. This week I felt it running in my veins, they swell and the pressure is intense and makes me want to escape my own body. I watch the blood turn dark, I am so thin and pale you can see right through. Pressure from inside, fire in my blood and no escape. So I face it, feel it, thank it for making me capable again.
A few hours into it (I had a migraine days before too and don’t take the injection for the pain cocktail they offer to stay able to drive myself home and be up for kids) a wave of pressure took over and felt like it gripped every organ. I felt like the pressure was going to cause me to burst so I started to cry. To stop death, I have to kill parts of me and that’s what I cry about. I can’t even make sense of it myself. Waves of memories flash through my mind, missing people who have disappeared while wishing I was more capable for those I love now.
The pressure got so strong I could barely catch my breath, I let those thoughts pass. Squeezed my stomach and intestines so hard, it forced everything to empty. And empty and empty. Trying to calm the sobs so I could breathe, took CBD tincture to ease the pain. Slight relief. Heart medicine of cayenne and liquid magnesium blend. I could overcome my breath. Children need things, I have been hiding too long. Composure. Certain organs and my head kept a stabbing pain I label as healing in order to accept it. Pain I can handle with grace, I have lots of practice.
I asked my Mom to leave, I needed the hope of seeing her friday when I feel better. There is a hate in me towards this battle, a hate I know I have to transform. It is so hard to be grateful for this, but I know the alternative is death and it is my choice to live. I need to remember that always. I AM CHOOSING THIS EXPERIENCE TO LIVE. Something about other people not witnessing my worst gives me a sense that it isn’t real and I need that right now. This is my battle.
Today I am back to me, with slightly less pain and a dreamy sort of tired. I acknowledge the trauma I feel, the anxiety of walking up to death as it grips me and telling it I will not go now. An icy cold grip that stays in my heart this year. Doctors don’t have any reason why, they say it’s normal. It’s not normal. I breathe away the fear, force myself to find beauty in right now. I now have the energy to rest for a few days before doing it again. I look forward to the time I have the energy to go into the world. I will go on my summer trips with the kids, I will. It is obviously my experience to feel how strong the love of a mother is, so I fight death and I play like a child. That is what I do now. <3