It’s now a week since starting the Azathioprine and there’s still no sign of the green scaly skin, tail or special powers.  More importantly, there’s still no sign of nausea either.  The dosage does however double today, so there’s still the chance I’ll be inhaling ginger biscuits by bedtime.

I had yet more interrupted REM sleep last night, though this time is was down to a 2am tooth fairy panic.  Mid-dream I suddenly remembered that the bloodied offering from my son was still sat awaiting collection at the end of his bed.  Tempting as it was to blame this on a tardy Tinkerbell, I staggered downstairs to fetch a coin and write a fairy thank you note.  Admittedly I could have skipped the note (this bit involved bright lights and a hunt for a pen) but tiredness is never an excuse for bad manners.  By the time I swapped the canine for cash and returned to bed I was wide awake.

So here I am, still feeling dog tired and looking rough. Of course, there’s nothing unusual about that.  It’s a Lupus + chronic fatigue + monthly hormone thing. Obviously I didn’t (but probably should have) calculate exactly what time of the month it was before starting these new pills.  This being the week I normally sleepwalk through the day and neck painkillers like smarties for the pain in my hip.  Incidentally, I’m still waiting for a doctor to explain to me why my overactive monthly hormones cause me to flare up in this way.

Normal tiredness aside, my body has felt extra rung out this week;  more battered around than usual.  My head has also felt a little extra woozy and a lot foggier in the brain department.  But all-in-all, physically speaking, everything seems to be going OK so far.

Perhaps the hardest bit to deal with has been knowing I’m on this stuff. It’s the unnerving knowledge that my immune system will now be ‘suppressed’ and my body is much more vulnerable to attack.  I’m already eyeing up everyone who coughs and sneezes within a 100-metre radius; to me, they’re a potential threat.

Being this tired every day means you spend rather a lot of time horizontal, dreaming up one possible undesirable scenario after the other. I am currently picturing my already traitorous blood cells (who throw all of their energies into attacking their host body), now picking up their placards and going on a strike.  And without them, my body becomes an unmanned, unprotected hotspot for every passing bacteria, germ, and virus looking to invade.

How can this scenario possibly end well?! Now, where did I put that face mask?

Rewind to Day 3. Fast forward to Day 10.