Some time in 2006 I started this blog as I started to really understand that I really was 34, my liver was trying to kill me and I really did need a transplant or continue to get more and more sick, got to hospital more often, and get used to the fact that I looked like Grandpa Simpson. Truth be told I just couldn’t live with looking like a Springfield resident for the rest of life.
The disease I have is Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC), and the bitch is back. It decided to be my friend again a couple of years ago and I started getting sick. I started off slow hiding by other things like Lymphoma and Pouchitis (what I get for having a J-pouch from my very first major surgery in 1995 where they excised my dirty colon). First fatigue. Mind numbing fatigue actually. The kind that wraps you like a swanky-franky and then lets you over-cooked until the bacon is more like strap leather and there is no hope of escape.
Next comes if buddy, persistent nausea. It like being motion sick more than half the time, so you can imagine what that does ones appetite too.
And to top it all off, it’s totally different this time around, and the internal anatomy around my liver is different to the treatments aren’t the same.
Oh, and often I can’t sleep.