7.50am – hungover as hell
I had a great day yesterday: no pain or weird side-effects and I think I got about seven hours sleep. Bliss. Today, not so.
T and dad screwed their faces up and begged me to stop talking at the dinner table last night when I remarked hopefully that “This is the last of the pain. I think it was just a blip.” I get it, they don’t want me to get my hopes up but surely being positive is better than wallowing in self-pity?
Perhaps they were right to caution me… I can feel a twinge in my left knee (which seems to be my dodgy one), even through the fug of co-codamol I took at 3.30am for my hangover. Yes, I drank too much fermented white grape juice last night. Dad is such a bad influence.
As I lay in bed listening to my pounding heartbeat, I thought about how silly and pointless drinking last night was. One or two glasses would have made me feel just as merry as the half a bottle of prosecco (chased up with half a bottle of white wine) that I shared with dad did. Moreover, I’m not sure that drinking is going to protect my already weakened immune system.
I looked at the Wikipedia page for ‘Tumor Necrosis Factor alpha‘, which is the protein that my new drug inhibits. There could have been one hundred different processes that it is involved with and I am effectively screwing with all of them by getting that drunk. I didn’t even read the full page, which is unusual for me because I didn’t want to freak myself out any further.
The good news is that there is much less blood in my poo now. Maybe it’s going to work…?!