Fibrosis 2

Gosh. It was amazing to get so many comments on my last Blog advising me not to put off the treatment.

I've taken your comments on board and I know what you mean.

The year of "work committments" that I spoke of, break down into two parts.

Firstly, I'll be overeas for six months, from May to October, and there's absolutely no way to get out of that.

After I get back, there's another six months left in the job I'm doing now. This job is mentally demanding and many hour's drive away from the doctor's office, which is why I had decided not to do the treatment while I'm here. But, after further consideration, I think that I could do it. After all, I'll be able to give myself the shots after a couple of practice runs, and I do have incredible support from my husband who is willing to put his own work on hold to help me out with mine if I start to struggle.

So I guess I could just wait until I get back from overseas, which will be six months, instead of a year.

The last three years has been very quiet, and would have been an ideal time to go through this treatment. Seems to be a pattern in my life that there are periods of nothing happening at all, and then all of a sudden everything happens at once!

Fibrosis

So I went back to the doctor for my post-biopsy follow-up. My doctor's great. He's really caring and sensitive. The news was bad, but he broke it to me gently. My liver has "Stage 3" fibrosis. Fibrosis is measured in stages, from 1 to 4. Once you're up to Stage 4 your liver is pretty much unable to function.

I got a detailed report about what my liver's up to, but it's full of medical gobbledy-goop so I'll have to spend some time on the internet figuring out what it all means.

Bizarrely, there's some good news to come out of the bad news. Since I'm in such bad condition, I qualify to get the latest treatment - the one that's got an eighty percent chance of success. Ideally, I would start immediately. But I've got important job committments for the next year. So I can't start treatment for a year. In the mean time, I'll just look after myself as well as I can.

Speaking of looking after myself, I notice an interesting thing with my ALT and AST levels: I was just going back over my blood tests that I've been having every couple of months since I was diagnosed. The very first one shows that my AST and ALT levels are way above normal. After that first test, I went all out on a health binge. I changed my diet to mostly raw, fresh fruit and veges, almost no junk food or fat, drank plenty of water, got enough sleep and plenty of exercise.

The following two blood tests showed that my ALT and AST levels had dropped to almost normal! Then I fell off the wagon (as you do), slacked off on the healthy lifestyle, and the ALT and AST levels shot back up again.

To prove the effects of healthy living on enzyme levels, I would have to repeat the whole pattern - and I intend to. As my doctor said, healthy living won't get rid of the virus, but it can certainly do great things for the general health of your liver.

Since I have to wait a year to start treatment, it will be important for me to get back into that healthy lifestyle to maintain good health in the meantime.

...thanks again to everyone who has left comments on my blog. You're all great. Feel free to link to my blog wherever you wish...

The Biopsy Wasn't So Bad

The biopsy was a success. That is, there was no internal bleeding or punctured lungs...
Seriously though, it was a lot more pleasant than I expected. I was unnecessarily nervous about it in the first place.
I was in the hospital from 8am until 2pm. The biopsy itself only took about two seconds. The rest of the time was taken up by the preparations beforehand (having an ultrasound to pinpoint the best location, filling out forms, waiting for the doctor) and the four hours of hanging about afterwards.
I’m so glad that my precious husband was allowed to come in with me for both the ultrasound and the biopsy. The little things he did to support me were invaluable. Like complimenting me on how much I suited my blue hospital gown.
I had the nicest nurse that has ever lived. She held my hand, stroked my wrist and kept telling me I was "doing well". I must say, I was quite glad to have her there when the doctor was sticking that drip needle into my hand! YEEEOOOOW! And then again when he injected the anaesthetic into my side! He had previously mentioned that some people faint when he does that stuff, and I can see why.
When he did the biopsy, it was the weirdest sensation, and it’s hard to describe how it felt. It’s kind of like getting hit really hard in the side, by a golf ball or something, and it knocks the stuffing out of you for a second. I presume what I felt was the needle skimming past my lung to get to my liver. It didn’t hurt of course, because of the anaesthetic. But it was like, "Ugh. What hit me?"
The next thing I knew, the doctor was showing me a jar containing a little brown wormy thing. A piece of my very own liver! I was ordered to roll onto my right side and stay like that for four hours. I had brought a book (thanks to good advice posted on my blog) but I also had hubby to talk to, which was nice.
Then the pain started. Not in my liver, but in my shoulder, which is what the doctor had said would happen. It’s one of those phenomena where the brain, for all its cleverness, can’t tell the difference between the liver and the shoulder. But it wasn’t long before my brain figured out that it could make my shoulder AND my liver hurt at the same time. Luckily, my nurse came to the rescue with some stronger-than-morphine stuff, which she pumped into my hand-drip. That immediately killed the conversation as well as the pain.
So that’s it really. I lay there for four hours, chatted to hubby, eavesdropped on other patient’s conversations, and then the nurse came and sat me up and gave me a cup of tea and a sandwich. By the time they kicked me out, I had become quite comfortable and didn’t really want to leave!
I would like to say a HUGE thanks to everyone who posted encouraging comments on my blog. The ironic thing is that I haven’t told any of my friends or family about my situation. The only person who knows is my husband. So it’s mind-blowing to have total strangers reading my blog and giving me all the encouragement that I need.
Cyber hugs and kisses to you all.