Ice

Ice.  That's all I can think of when I go outside.  There are many inches of ice built up around our porch and in our driveway.  The roads are now skating rinks.  It's dangerous.

But it's also beautiful.  Everything sparkles in the sun, and each tree branch is perfectly coated.

Also, that post I made about Asian Beetles biting me?  I was wrong.  Turns out, I'm just randomly sprouting hives.  They restrict themselves to the skin on my joints and scars.  They flare and I'll have 20-30 of them for half a day or so, and then they fade away and I'll have just a handful.  Then they flare again.  They are intensely itchy, and also cause a lot of tenderness in the tissue beneath them.  Not a clue what's going on, but there are no systemic symptoms so I'm not overly worried.

Without You

Dear Doctor F. and Nurses T., M., and D.:

I am writing to inform you that I intend to progress forward mostly without you.  My leg has no visible ulcerations and there is in fact no need for a dressing on it.  I am without fever, my white count is within acceptable limits, and I don't feel "punky."

So while I understand that this may be temporary and that setbacks are a very real possibility, perhaps even probability, for now... adios.

Thank you for the time and energy you've poured into me in the last five months (yes, five MONTHS of biweekly appointments, at a minimum; several of those months were three or more appointments weekly, and there was a large chunk of time where they were daily necessities).  I won't forget about it or you.

It's just that now, it's time to get back to the business of living.

P.G. With No Baby

I've been told  many, many times that "whatever is wrong is self inflicted" in reference to my leg.  And I've been assured that it definitely couldn't hurt as much as I say it hurts.  I've been told I'm not sick, that there's no physical reason for the symptoms I battle daily.

But recently, that's all changed.  My doc believes in me and has fought to help me heal, and has endured the highs and lows as my leg gets better and worse unpredictably.  And finally, there's a word for what I am fighting.  Two words, actually.  Pyoderma gangrenosum.  Look it up if you want, but be warned that most articles include graphic and rather unappealing pictures.  Basically, it means my body attacks itself from the inside out (so in that regard, I suppose you could call it self-inflicted).  It favors previously damaged skin, but I have no control over when or where or how badly it will do so.  When it flares, my skin first turns red, then warm and spongy, then blisters, then peels and rapidly erodes  until I have ulcers muscle-deep and usually bigger than a silver dollar.  It is excruciatingly painful - far more so than it should be given the wounds themselves.  It has coupled with a disturbing lack of immune response to allow infection after infection to form, for which I am almost daily at the clinic receiving treatment. 

Now, that said, I'm not trying to whine.  I honestly have a beautiful life, made that way by a faithful God.  It's just that people often wonder what it is that is actually wrong with me - what keeps me so sick so much of the time.  And this is certainly not the only problem, but it is a big one.  One I'll overcome.  And when I do, God will get the glory because it will be by His grace.