In twelve hours I will have stopped PEP. Those pills are the last ones that I am going to take. I am extremely happy about this. It has been a month since my stomach didn't feel as if I were waiting to vomit, a month since my thought processes have seemed even remotely like mine. A month since I last worked, good grief, am I bored! A month of wondering if my life is about to change for the worst. A month of my mates looking sideways at me when I had to take the pills in front of them (but still enough my friends to laugh and joke with me about it). A month of having to get out of bed to eat breakfast, because the pills need food in my stomach. A month without shaving (why bother, I'm not allowed to have sex). A month of feeling just the tinest bit isolated. A month of people who I have never met, from places around the globe I have never seen, wishing me well. A month of always feeling grateful to those people, for this is the kindness of strangers – in itself a random act of reality.
All over now.
In two months I get to go for my HIV test, which should be fun and giggles.
But for now – I'm happy.
3 thoughts on “Twelve Hours To Go”
Glad to see that junk coming to an end. Its quite miserable.What's all this I am reading about NHS' “Agenda for the Future?”
It that a good or bad thing for you guys?
I'm Heidi from Chicago, new to medicine, I'm a Respiratory Therapist. My husband, who's from Chester UK, is also an EMT who worked for the NHS in Cheshire. I'm very sorry to read about your ordeal. You're in my thoughts as you endure he blut of this BS! I hope a clean bill of health is just around the corner for you.
We'll ALWAYS wish you well, Man!Cheers!