Not A Normal Day

    I was going to act like today was a normal day.  I woke up, got the kids off to school, and went to Jazzercise.  I left class when the rest of the class started floor work, because I'm still not able to get on and off the floor, and went into the locker room.

    And burst into tears.

    It was then that I realized that maybe I'm a little nervous about this afternoon.  In a few hours, I'll go see my liver doctor and have my annual hepatitis C test.  Only this year is different.  I finished my interferon treatment five years ago, and they treat hepatitis C like cancer.  If you stay in remission for five years, they say you're "cured."  I've tested negative each year so far, and have no reason to think this year will be any different.  Still, the enormity of the occasion is overwhelming.

    I cannot believe I've made it this far.  It doesn't seem long ago when the first shipment of needles pre-loaded with interferon were delivered to my door in a box, cooled with dry ice.  The twins were just six months old when I started, and eighteen months old when my treatment ended.

    After I finished, my doctor told me to wait a couple of months before exercising so my body could recover.  Of course, I didn't.  I was desperate to "be normal" again.  I immediately signed up for Jazzercise, and the Voice of Reason, afraid I'd collapse on the gym floor, insisted on coming along.

    Five years later, we're both still at it, step-ball-changing and grapevining enthusiastically.

    Today, I plan to drink lots of water and Gatorade so my veins will be nice and juicy.  I'll have a little prayer time, then do my usual routine.  I've got to pick out hardware for the new front door, pay bills, pick up carpool, take the duo to a birthday party here (obviously I won't be going in, as that would violate my principles), take Finn to football, and get the boys' clothes washed so they can hunt little birdies with Bill this weekend and give me some much-needed solitude.  Given that, I bet it will be hard to dwell on things too much.

    But still, there's no denying it's not a normal day.

Comments

[AmyT]

Hi Anne,
I can honestly say I know how you feel... diagnosed with insulin-dependent diabetes two years ago, and there's not been a normal day since.

I've been reading you a while (found you via finslippy), and meaning to send you a note but couldn't find an email address here (?)

Visit me sometime at www.diabetesmine.com? I'll be adding you to my blogroll...

Best,
AmyT of www.diabetesmine.com

[halloweenlover]

Wow Anne, you really are even more amazing than I thought.

I am hoping we'll get an update soon with fantastic news. Hope your weekend was fun and stress free!

[Belinda]

In my prayers, you are. My uncle has been "clear" for so many years now that when he has bloodwork no one would ever know the ol' hep was there. he exercises vigorously, and does some "imaging" techniques, and prays, and eats a very healthy diet.

I went back to read the skating rink story...I love your boys even more now.

[Running2Ks]

Many many hugs. I hope to hear that you are all clear soon!

[Sandra Miller]

Anne-- I never realized you were dealing with something so big. All of your posts express the strength, humor, and grace with which you face challenging circumstances.

But in reading this last entry, my respect and admiration for you has increased many-fold.

I'm sending loads of good thoughts your way... and hoping you are now celebrating yesterday's good news.

[Tish]

YOU will be fine, YOU are a fighter, YOU are a hero in my eyes.
Prayers and hugs to you. Prayers and hugs to the twins.
Prayers.
It works.

[KLee]

Hope your test results are good. Congrats on making it this far. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.

[Lucinda]

Ann, you are in my thoughts and prayers right now. Good luck. Let us know how it turns out.

[Stacy Z]

Ann - I've left you a comment before - my son Tanner had a rare liver disease and had a liver transplant at age 10 mos (6 mos ago). We've been down that road of frequent blood draws, biopsies, the whole nine yards. And, regardless of how good we think he looks & how well we know he's doing, there is always anxiety associated with that labwork. You'll be in our prayers today to be "cured". God Bless - Stacy Z

[Karen M]

Best wishes for an excellent lab result!

As a newer fan, this is the first I've heard about this, and I am astonished that you started your treatment with 6-month old twins. Somewhere, someone must be working on a very special medal to honor you.

[Jennifer Ross]

Hi Anne, I looked this up like I said I would at Jazzercise this morning, and I just can't stop reading. When you are famous, and I tell people that I know you and can get them an autograph, please don't get annoyed....Jennifer

[Lisa (Blah Blah)]

De-lurking to wish you the best of luck. Will be checking back for the update (which I know will be all good news)!

[liz]

Lots of hugs and good wishes. And more hugs.