Changes

There comes points in every person's life where they are forced to take a look at what is working for them and, more importantly, what is not. When I weighed in the mid 300s, I rarely would look at any aspect of my living condition, preferring to stay stagnant but safe. I hated the world and believed that the world hated me. I blamed everyone and everything but myself for my living condition. It's true, there were (and there remain) lots of things that are outside of my control, but what I've come to grips with is that there are just as many that should be evaluated and changed up at my own discretion. And that by changing up what I can, I can also influence my perception of(and therefore ability to live with) what I cannot.

I'm at one of those crossroads again. I've been dissatisfied for probably around six months now, but with the introduction of Cimzia into my life, it seems to have crystalized into a tangable force... something that needs to be taken action on.

It's not that I know that the Cimzia is going to work. Indeed, there have been significant changes in the way my body is functioning since I took the first injections, but they are proving to be largly inconvenient and embarassing. The "Accident" is now becoming a daily (and sometimes several times a day) phenomena. Of course that signifies an improvement in function as I am not so inflamed that my bodily systems are virtually non functioning, but it makes it hard to leave my home. Whether the drug ultimately continues to improve my functions until I do as well as the best and am in remission in six weeks remains to be seen.

But the fact is that for the first time in many years, I have hope. I may not have to live like I've been living... scared, embarassed, destitute... for much longer. If I am in remission in six weeks, I suppose that I will have to sit on the sidelines for another six months or so to make sure some of the very severe side effects that Cimzia threatens don't manifest. Things like Lupus and Lymphoma. (It took about six months for Remicade to bring out significant enough Lupus symptoms to identify.) But if they don't, I want to go back to work. Be productive. Be a contributing member of society and, at the same time, become self sufficient and not live in a medically-induced state of poverty. Maybe even make a difference. To somebody. Anybody. I have a dream.

The thing is, though, that hope does not wait to manifest itself six months down the line when the timing is appropriate. It is now. And it's influencing how I view other activities, social interactions, and people in my life. What is important; what is not. What still serves it's purpose; what does not. What do I still enjoy; what do I not.

I have to be careful when making these evaluations. Just as Auto Immune disease, when it's flaring, get's into your brain and changes how you react to given stimuli (I've often appeared and acted erratic and 'nuts' when deep inside when I knew that I was not representing myself well... it's one of those out-of-body situations that you can't help), so do the powerful chemicals that are now being released into me. Am I making rational evaluations? Or are my logic systems imparred because of the new regime? Is this really the time that I should start the process of metamorphysis and change, or would I be better served by waiting a little longer?

Any time anyone makes a significant life change, there is - and should be - a period of mixed emotions. Of fear. It keeps us alert and sharp. And I am fearful.

But I'm also determined. I cannot continue down the path as it is laid out for me right now. I may be on chemicals, I may be afraid, I may even be making some of the biggest mistakes of my life. But I need a change.