Counting sheep

Bloody hell, MS.

What, what, what is the point in enforcing fatigue if you also insist on insomnia.

Grumbles to self. At 2am. And 3am. And, obviously, 4.

:: Counting sheep by Airhead

Love rollercoaster

Oh good grief, it appears that I am living in a medical Groundhog Day.

Lymphocytes won't shift in the right direction, so more blood tests booked, more stress, thereby exacerbating MS symptoms and more hanging on the ruddy phone.

And to top it all off, I have Fucking Shingles* for the second time this year.

Presumably a gift from the Cladribine fairy. Despite the fact I can't actually take the Cladribine because my lymphocytes are stubbornly refusing to rise.

It's all so unutterably tedious and, also, faintly unbelievable when it comes to describing the interactions between MS on its own, MS drugs, Covid  booster jab and flu vaccination.

1) I have MS and all the shit that entails.

2) To try and prevent the shit, I have to take the Cladribine.

3) The Cladribine smashes my immune system, leaving me open to varying nasties.

4) Examples of which are Fucking Shingles* and also Covid and flu. 

5) We have vaccines against these last two. But to get any use from these vaccines, my lymphocytes have to be at a decent level.

6) Which they aren't because I have to take Cladribine.

7) Which is meant to help my MS and all the shit that entails.

They're so reliant on each other that to an outsider it just sounds like utter gobbledegook.

To be honest, I'm beginning to despair ever getting out of the low-lympocyte-loop.

It's like being on the world's crappiest funfair ride and I feel very tempted to bang on the payment booth and demand a refund.

:: Love rollercoaster by Red Hot Chili Peppers

* Medical term