You already know I blame myself for this.
I blame myself for walking in the doctor's office and asking if it was possible that I had an infection.
I blame myself for taking the drugs despite reading the warnings.
I blame myself for pursuing hospitalization because I was so scared and sick.
My only defense really has just been that I was sick and scared and wanted help.
My ignorance lead me here.
But today I checked in with a former doctor of mine to see what kind of antibiotic I had been given in the past which may well have saved my life (I had been getting worse and worse from an infection that no specialist was recognizing as such. Finally a doc gave me a trial of antibiotics, and I was healed.)
Anyway, this antibiotic is Clarithromycin.
When you read the fine print, clarithromycin can cause severe allergic reactions, infection with other bacteria (Clostridium difficile-associated disease), ear problems (dizziness, hearing loss, ringing in the ears [tinnitus]), liver abnormalities (cholestatic hepatitis), lower numbers of platelets in the blood (thrombocytopenia, lowered clotting ability), inflammation of the pancreas (pancreatitis), slowed heart rate...
That's some scary shit.
And THAT is why I agreed to take Cipro, even having read the side effects.
Because seemingly all drugs - especially antibiotics - come with terrible potential side effects including things like - and I swear this is true - GOING DEAF!
But I had never had a problem with any antibiotic. So I thought I'd be fine. I also thought that, if I DID have a side effect, I could just stop the drug and the side effect would go away.
How very, very, very wrong I was...
And maybe that's what separates the quinolone class from other antibiotics. With many of the others, if you have an adverse reaction, it ceases when you cease the medication.
Not so with Cipro.
I know the guilt is merely another layer of awful I shouldn't take on.
I already hurt so much in so many ways.
But I miss who I was and what I used to be able to do... like sleep. And walk without any pain. And have a full head of hair. And see clearly.
Not a day goes by that I don't go back to late July 2015 and scream to myself, "Don't take it! Throw it away!"... Sometimes it almost seems feasible. Like if I want it bad enough, it will happen. Like it's all just been a bad dream. Like I can will myself into time travel...
Please pray for me.
Please know that if you lose me to this that I really did try as hard as I could.
People tell me I'm strong, but I don't want to be strong... I don't want to have to be, I mean.
I just want to be well...