Night Mare

This was the evening after the morning before.

Another weeny gummy bleed. Where this one came from I'm not sure - think it started around mid afternoon - aaaah mebbe it was that piece of Soreen I had with my cuppa?? It is very sticky and probly sucked a bit of my gum off. Nice. Anyway, it was still going as I headed off to bed.

You shot up? says Ade.
No, says I.
You won't sleep, say he.
Oh but I will, say I.
I got my night nurse you see and with that I could sleep through a boobquake.

Where was I?? Oh yes, the clotting factor conundrum...

I was talking to a fellow bleeder at the hospital Tuesday lunchtime and we both admitted that where possible - we put off having an injection until it is absolutely desperately necessary. Now it's not like either of us have a problem injecting - we don't. Though I know bleeders who hate it with a passion and I really wouldn't want to be in their sensible shoes.

Injecting is:

• quicker than it's ever been (with these drugs companies reducing what used to be a squishy bag of plasma down to a couple of glass bottles)
  
• pretty effective (though not always so, being a Type III von Willie, that would be far too simple)
• almost painless (if I do it in my left elbow and through the scar tissue - not if I have to use my right elbow vein, but even that ain't too bad; hands - now they would kill me but I've yet to have to resort to that entry point)

So why put it off??

It's funny - when I have to do prophylactic treatment, i.e. twice daily injections to cover a period or a procedure of some sort, I set my alarm at 9am and 9pm and do my jabs no problem. Ok - so mebbe there is a little cursing and harrumphing but I do em - night after morning after night after morning.

So why is it different when I need to treat on demand??

I'm not sure.

It seems much more of an effort. Much more of a chore. A hassle. It bugs me frankly that I need to have my treatment. I mean why for God's sake?? Why do I have this damn disorder that means I need to stick a needle in myself to stop my gum from oooooooooozing like an insidious leaking leech.

Is it because it reminds me of my imperfection? But why would that be, as this process fixes me?

Do I hate injecting that much that I avoid it at all costs? Nope, once I get on with it, it's easy and generally restores me to a non bleedy state.

What then?

Am I just a lazy arse? Partly I think. My friend and I both agreed that when it comes to it we often just simply cannot be bothered.

Is it the cost?? Is it that I feel it needs to be really bad to warrant injecting? I have access to this treatment that not everyone with funny blood has. Sometimes yes, I think I postpone longer and longer. I wait - wait for the bleed to continue past 5-10 minutes normal bleeding time, past 1-2 hours slightly annoying bleeding time, onwards through 3-4 hours really annoying bleeding time, we reach 8 hours and I realise that I'm still oozing. Then do I inject??

With my gums - I sometimes wait til 12 hours before I jab, 24 hours. Why do this?

Any longer than 10 minutes is abnormal, should I not just inject once that has been breached?? Why wait so damn long...

You know, sometimes I think if I just ignore it, it will stop. If I don't think about the bleeding it'll just clot up and a few hours later I'll go - "Ooo, a blood free gob! How lovely." Very occasionally I find that happens, and a bleed I was previously aware of has miraculously gummed up of its own accord. Another reason to put off the prick.

Of course, should I be bleeding at a more profuse rate - period pace for example - I will get on with it. I don't sit around gushing. (Except over a really luscious piece of cake - and even then I'd stop to shoot up if I were bleeding over it.)

Mebbe it's just I judge the oozers as not bad enough to treat initially. They are just something I should accept and not treat unless they hit 12 hours? 24 hours? It's a valuable treatment - should it be saved for more extreme circumstances. Praps I'm not truly suffering unless I'm swallowing blood for a significant number of hours?

But why should I accept any excess bleeding even if it is an infinite dribble?

Just get on with it - shoot up and shut up.

Don't Disturb The Scab

... as my mother said to me, while I was hobbling down the kitchen towards the microwave with a tub of carrot and coriander.

I have got various things to tell you, blogees. But I have not got the energy to write much more than this in one go.

See that's it. I'm done in.

Anyhoo - if you can hang around a bit longer I'll try and expand on the various things that are occurring currently (now that's one too many currs for my liking!)

1. No bleeding in February thus far - don't tell anyone, my womb lining might hear you and decide its had enough of being sidelined and needs to make a speedy comeback with a new hairdo but to all intents and purposes the same motivation ... gore galore!

2. My trace of the adoption has, after a slightly hesitant and covert start, moved on apace and more is being revealed and illuminated than ever before.

3. Ade and I had a trip into the Welsh hills on Monday this week looking for a woman who can do for Chronic Fatigue what Hugh FW has done for battery farming - i.e. hopefully get rid. We found her halfway up a hill and have got a whole new plan of attack, tons of bumpf and another vast array of supples and miners and vits, along with a book and a load of articles to back up her advice.

Just in case you're feeling swizzed - that's not the expansion that's merely the teaser, as these TV types like to say. The prologue before the novella, the preview before the performance, the canape before the cordon bleu ... ok, now I'm bigging it up way too much. Suffice to say I will update anon. If you can hang on. Please.

X

Wishing Tom, Ade's cousin, a happy birthday for yesterday.
And wishing the boys going to Paris for Dave's 40th a blooming good time!

So I say...

Thanks for the Malteasers, the chocs I'm eating,

Thanks for all the joy they're bringing.

Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty,

What would life be?

Without a Twix or a Flake, what are we?

So I say thanks for the Malteasers,

For giving them to me.