INTERFERON, GO!

Today is an interferon day. This is what I call them. What that means is that last night before bed I pinched an inch and jabbed my subcutaneous tissue with a pointy bit. Subcutaneous means fat. The pointy bit is a dial-a-dose type needle. It's pretty much idiot proof. Five clicks equals one-point-five million units equals jabby.

1.5 MU is considered, by those in the pharmaceutical profession, to be a baby dose. Most patients start at ten times that amount and then spend most of their time sleeping. There's a list of side effects as long as my arm, broken down into three categories: very likely (1 in 1o), likely (1 in 100) and rare-but-troubling. The tiredness is guaranteed, though. Most people on interferon spend at least twelve hours a day sleeping. I only do that three days of the week, which means that, ostensibly, I'll be able to continue my educational career this fall.

The course of treatment will take two of your earth years, though if I fail to respond to this level of jabby, they will increase my jabbage. This will be done either by increase the MU per individual dose, or increasing my jab frequency from thrice weekly to daily. That'll mean moving back home with my parents and basically doing nothing but sleeping.

They way it stands right now, though, I spend three days a week feeling like I have the tail end of the flu. General malaise, aches and pains, and a significant lack of energy.

Blar.

But at the end of it all, I should be 110%, which is actually better than I was when I started. Win.