| Lloyd
I thank you so much for the immediate attention to my book
order. Not only was it sent right away, but the additional
book was a real surprise
and an uplift. I ordered Saturday and received it Wednesday
on the east
coast. After dealing with corporate medicine,
this is really impressive. You know how it goes, "This
is an emergency, we'll set you up with an
appointment 4 weeks from tomorrow."
I read the book quickly, having become familiar with much
on the website
and really enjoyed your sense of humor. The medical
industry is a vast
sea of comedic material if the subject matter wasn't so tragic.
I was diagnosed in April of 2003 and found your web-site soon
after but didn't read it thoroughly. I just put it in Favorites.
I had a certain amount of faith that despite the idiocy of
corporate America, the industry was still my best shot at
a cure. I thought that the basic desire of people to be decent
and provide a certain minimum amount of give-a-shit would
keep
the system working honestly enough to be the best chance at
a cure.
I guess I under-estimated the deleterious effects of disco
music, or something equally sinister, on the fabric of our
society.
I am/was in the contracting business,
and it always kind of amazed me that anything ever got built
given the corporate mindset. It didn't take long
inside the "Mill" of the medical industry for me
to realize that only squeaky wheels and palms got greased
and that I was kind of on my own once the treatment started.
Looking back, I have the satisfaction of knowing that
I was a mean and ornery SOB to all the right people and they
took me off that crap. It would be hilarious
if I wasn't in such sorry shape. I had finally developed
a nasty rash and the Gastroidiologist backed away from me
into the corner and told me treatment was done, that my levels
were going back up, and please don't make me look at that
rash anymore. I shoulda showed him my toenail fungus
right then and there but he never gave me a chance.
I never thought I could be so glad to see a treatment for
a "life-threatening" illness fail.
I began to feel better and better and showing up for work
more and more
and after a couple months I felt better than I had in years!
I knew that I
still had the disease but I was just hoping the good feelings
would last.
Every now and then I would drink a few beers, but it didn't
sit to good and
I rarely drank more than two. The feel good only lasted about
a month or
maybe six weeks and the fatigue came back hard.
I get tired from the least activity and then the joints on
the left side of
my body get sore. If I work through it I will just be suffering
until I allow myself to rest for an inordinately long time.
I find it odd that the left side has always been affected
more, even before I knew what was wrong.
I originally went to my family doc because of vague and varied
symptoms,
much on my left side. He did a battery of tests for heavy
metals and
other things and it came back positive for Hep C.
I had also noticed over the years that mosquitos didn't seem
to find me particularly tasty and would prefer my companions
over me. I just thought
I had a convenient BO, but maybe they don't like lousy blood.
The more I have read about the wide range of functions the
liver has, the more I realize that I have probably had flareups
for years and years. I most likely
caught it from IV drug use around 1975. I was in an isolated
area in Montana and I know who was doing what in that little
community. My wife at the time was diagnosed before I was,
and the Vietnam vet that I most likely got it from has been
dead for about 15 years. I have been married three times since
I quit that behavior and none of my other exwives or current
one have the disease, nor do any of my 5 children. I don't
believe 1a is sexually transmitted.
About a month ago I had four beers on a Monday and began feeling
bloated
on Tuesday. On Wednesday I complained to my apprentice who
had been
carrying me for the last year, that I felt like I had a hangover
that wouldn't
go away. On Thursday the pressure was in my chest as well,
and I went
to my doctor's partner who thought it might be a heart attack
and he sent
me to an emergency room. That was great.
I spent the night in the hallway on a gurney hooked up to
a monitor that kept quitting and freezing my dingleberries
off. I finally put my clothes back on under my gown. It is
obvious to anyone stuck in there and not thoroughly drugged
that many of the hospital emplyees are only concerned
about the same thing my guys are. Getting through an 8 hour
shift doing as
little as possible. I could have moved through that hospital
faster with a piano tied to my butt and my feet shackled together.
I finally got a room
at 4:30 in the morning but was back out in the hall at 7:30
waiting
for "tests". The whole morning was consumed with
waiting in hallways interrupted by brief comedic relief, ie;
testing.
24 hours later I walked home knowing that I have a wonderfully
healthy
heart, low cholestrol, ultra low blood pressure when I'm laying
down (Are
you sure you don't feel dizzy?) and I still feel bloated but
not as
bad.
Rest seems to help. Its been two and a half weeks now, I
haven't had a drop of alcohol, and I still feel bloated and
can hardly drag myself to
work to dispatch my guys and then come home. Maybe all the
hospital staff has hep C and chronic fatigue. That would explain
a lot.
My current wife is a peach. She actually has a lot in common
with your
traveling companion in the book except that mine doesn't have
the rich
taste. She consumes beer at an amazing rate and refuses to
believe there
is anything wrong with me that a kick in the ass can't fix.
I need the motivation but it gets a little much sometimes.
Anyway she slipped in the
rain on the back step and was just out of it for a week on
muscle relaxers
and pain killers. She couldn't stay awake long enough to remember
she used to drink beer and I had a little more free time.
I still had your web site
on my favorites and finally looked at it. A day later I ordered
the book and now I am ready to make the changes in my life
that will be necessary.
This is gonna go over like a brick glider around here, but
hey, its never to
soon to be a crotchety pain in the ass to your loved ones.
I'd feel
terrible if something happened and I missed my opportunity
make them
remember me.
I don't know much about my blood work except that my virus
level was
initially about 2.9 million and that it went way down on the
Peg-Intron
Ribaviron therapy and then it began to increase. I was on
the s**t for 5
months. To tell the truth I don't really care about tests.
I want to feel well enough to raise hell at work instead of
at home and have a chance to rack up some nice debts before
I croak. Re-appropriation of inheritances is another industry
I don't want to support. I'll make sure my loved ones are
glad I'm gone.
Well I've rambled on for quite a maddeningly long time now
without any real
point other than possibly convincing you that the disease
can affect the
mind as well as the liver, but surprisingly enough I do have
a question.
You mentioned to one writer that bloating is often a build-up
of lymphatic
fluids rather than water retention and must be removed manually.
How can I find out? My doc is ok and has always been
pretty willing to spend my
insurance company's money, but I don't really want to go to
the mill again.
My belly has gotten noticeably bigger in the last year but
I've been pretty
inactive and thought I was just getting fat until it got uncomfortable.
The
bloated feeling is about a month old and I haven't been to
the doctor since
the heart attack fiasco.
Thanks again for excellent service in getting me your books.
If you want to
hear anymore of the amusing anecdotes surrounding my milking,
I mean
treatment, let me know. I'll search through the brainfog and
if I can't remember any I'll make up a couple good ones that
will be as accurate as
any corporate prospectus.
M. P.
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