Some days I feel like I'm in my own twisted version of The Truman Show. You know, where everything you touch turns to shit and you can't help but wonder if there's some underlying conspiracy to drive you to the brink of insanity?
Today is not one of those days. Today is the opposite of one of those days.
First up, Chris went for his first ever driving lesson. That probably sounds like no big deal. Except that it's a huge super massive deal.
When we discovered I was pregnant with Toby (on the 13th March 2009) I told him "You need to learn to drive before this baby is born!" and again when I found out I was pregnant with Rudy on the 12th February 2011, I said the same thing. Those embryos are now 4 and 2 years old respectively and until this morning Chris had yet to actually get behind the wheel!
After his lesson (which was apparently a great success, and certainly the Audi appeared intact on his return) I had to get bloods done as part of my molar pregnancy follow up. I figured it was going to be a huge pain in the arse as the specialist centre I'm under send all the specimen bottles and request forms etc direct to me and if there's one thing us HCP's hate, it's patients' who have more of a clue what's going on than we do ;) But in fact I got called through right on time, presented my blood bottle and paperwork and it was done and dusted within a couple of minutes. In fact, because I am driving again these days, the whole experience from leaving my house to walking back through the front door took exactly 20 minutes. There was even a parking space in the GP surgery car park! There is never a parking space in the GP surgery car park! (That was my first clue toward the reverse Truman show effect).
Then our lovely friends Emma and Ben came to collect the boys to take them on an exciting trip to the Sealife Centre and for a sleepover! Faced with the prospect of 24 hours child free in which to do whatever we pleased (so...that'll be 24 hours of uninterrupted sleep then ;) ) whilst our boys had a whale of a time (excuse the pun!) I really didn't see how the day could get much better.
Then a letter from my consultant dropped through the letterbox.
It begins:
Well that got my attention. This guy could definitely write novels, he's certainly got that "hook them from the first line then reel them in" quality.
He goes on to say that given how negatively I reacted to my recent trial of steroids he believes he is justified in allowing me 5-6 months of IVIG treatment before considering other options.
That means not starting prednisolone this week and waiting 2 months to see how I react to it. It means that for the first half of 2014 my CIDP will be managed and I will be able to lead some semblance of a 'normal' life and take a break from hospital admissions and trialling medications and their side effects. It is, in short, very good news. Which, as a family, we haven't had much of recently.
So since today appears to be going so well, and since our children are safe and happy at Mermaid Cottage I think the only right and proper thing to do is to go out and celebrate...just as soon as I finish this blog post...and take a long hot bubble bath...and have a disco nap...
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