St Etheldreda’s Day
Today is St Etheldreda’s Day. The day that the Church remembers a holy Abbess in Ely, Cambridgeshire. It is the day I remember a friend of mine called Etheldreda. And remember that I have forgotten to send a card to her – I’ll have to do that later this afternoon.
Last month when I was given the date for today’s appointment I mentioned that it was St Etheldreda’s day and the doctor looked at me a bit funny. I’m rather good with dates – name a day and I’ll probably be able to know what saint’s day it is – if it is at all. Fortunately the doctors are good at getting their work done regardless of holy days. And the good news is that my CD4 count has finally started to go up. On the day the last bloods were taken it was 150. And the Viral Load has continued to come down: 330.
Of course the vampires continue at the clinic – and more bloods were taken for analysis today. At least I am assume it is for analysis and not for some other gory alternative. Although part of me would rather like a rather handsome vampire like Angel to be lurking about – and he’d have to lurk in the darkness today, as it was 22 degrees Centigrade at about 11 a.m.
My left knees has been twinging in pain in the last week, so an X-ray has been organised for this – though both the consultant and I forgot about gettint this done until after I had left the clinic! So I have just had a telephone call about this – so another trip up to the hospital in the morning for that to be done! What fun!
My mood has been really quite down which has been affecting how I perceive the function of my meds. This has meant on a few occasions that I haven’t been taking them. Indeed at some points I have been wanting to just stop taking them altogether.
I have been advised by my consultant to speak to my GP about my depression and I will be trying to make an appointment for later in the week to do this.
My local support centre for those living with HIV has been great in the last few months. I cannot imagine how anyone can cope with this diagnosis without using its facilities and services. That friends of mine have been doing so, not only amazes me but makes me wonder why.
Somewhere to be
For me the best thing about the Centre is that it exists and is open. It is a safe place. Somewhere I can come and be. I don’t have to worry about anyone asking anything that I don’t want to answer. The best thing is that I can sit in the main room, and get on with whatever I want and just know that there is someone at the end of the corridor if I want someone to talk to.
The lovely Paul…
And yesterday I had a great massage from the very lovely Paul. Paul has magic hands. I am convinced that he has magic hands. Yesterday I was feeling really down, really sore and by the end of the massage I was feeling much better. I’ve never thought about massage before I was diagnosed HIV+ and came into contact with the support centre. But now I am convinced that it is most wonderful. Yesterday was particularly fun in that whilst being almost asleep I could feel my right hand doing the fingering for the piano of some of the music that was on in the background – at other points it was my left hand doing fingering for the cello for other music. Most of this was from my days in school and youth orchestras: that is at least twelve years ago! Strange what you remember!
…and the ever patient B
Counselling with B continues. Looking at various things, and I think that the most important thing is my sense of self-worth. Or rather examining why I feel like this. This links in with the chat with my consultant at the clinic this morning and my future chat with my GP. We’ll see where it all leads.
Tomorrow is a big day. It is the day I have to get all dressed up – I have a major birthday party to attend. It is not mine – it is a friend’s, and I will be meeting many of his friends. Being surrounded by many people that I have not met before is not something that I enjoy. It is easy if you are in a uniform of some kind, in a particular role. But being there just as another of his friends is not something to which I am looking forward. But it has to be done. And at some point in the middle of the big party… I will have to take my pills – and being a Wednesday there will be 2 Prezista, 1 Truvada, 1 Ritonavir, 2 Septrin. Wahey! What a junkie! And I can’t even wash them down with alcohol – as I’ll be driving!
Regular readers of this blog will be wondering quite why I am so verbose today. I am not sure of this myself. Hopefully, however, it shows me returning to normal. I’m sure those in work will be glad of this as they won’t be having to help me out with writing texts as much as they have in recent months.
I’m really sorry to hear you so down. But don’t let it stop you taking the meds.: you point out yourself the test results which show they are working!
I didn’t know about St Etheldreda when I saw Ely from the train on the way to Cambridge yesterday…