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Failure is not an Option

Friday afternoon- sitting in the passenger side of mom's red infiniti sports car on the way to Wegman's. We had just left my 2 1/2 hour long allergy appointment, I called my GI doctor's nurse.

"Hello. This is Gabrielle Rosenfeld. I am returning your call"

"Hi, Ms. Rosenfeld. We got your blood work back and I can't really say anything until a doctor looks at them, but, well..."

(5 minute conversation about my GI doctor's upcoming wedding and then back to business)

"I can't say anything right now. but the Humira levels and antibodies. It's nothing bad. Don't concern yourself. I will tell you on Monday or Tuesday, once they have a chance to read them."

"Great. Thanks."

(After 14 years, you know where this is heading...your body struck again. You know that all the hope and positive thinking in the fucking verse won't change your body. You know that whenever you try to get healthy your body goes on the defensive. {Insert appropriate sports reference} My immune system was trained by the Israeli army, there's no way to beat it in thousands of years."

15 minutes later- purveying the delicious food options at Wegman's with my starving mother. The phone rings.

"Hello?

"Ms. Rosenfeld, I couldn't let you worry about this all day. The doctor confirmed my diagnosis. Stop taking Humira."

"Okay" (Don't cry. This is not a surprise. Think of a joke to lighten the mood...)

"The blood work showed no levels of Humira and high levels of antibodies. So we will schedule an appointment with the doctor and you will probably go on Entyvio or Remicade."

"I failed on those too." (Said with anger and fear, I loathe myself)

"She'll figure it out. Talk to you soon. Bye."

Weep into your avocado rolls, your salty tears replace soy sauce.

End Scene 

Every time I try to explain how it feels to fail again, the words escape me. Every failure puts another chink in my armor. I have spent the past six months solely focused on seeking and reaching remission. I am devastated, but I am fucking determined.

I truly believe that my attitude, strength, and willpower will get me to the finish line and that this is just a small stumble in my path. I will find remission whether its with Eastern or Western medicine (or just smoking Snoop size amounts of pot). I know it's out there...like aliens.

Comments

  1. Cathie RosenfeldApril 4, 2017 at 6:58 AM

    I am so proud of you for sharing this painful part of your life. I know your strength is helping others to understand more about this insidious, often invisible disease. Love you a million billions! Mom

    ReplyDelete

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