"Blood Runneth Over"

Biro drawing (by me) of my hand (and all injecting paraphernalia) and in the act of shooting up. (Thursday, March 1st 1979...8yrs 36 days old)



Why won't this child of ours stop fucking crying? Crying all the bloody time! Every time I pick the bastard thing up it cries! Non-fucking stop! People stare at me in the street God dammit...as if I'm hurting the boy deliberately! I'm not! I just don't know what to do anymore! The other one...the girl...she doesn't cry! She is as good as gold. Just lies there...like a little new born bird, just fallen from her safe and warm nest. You know what has happened don't you? The boy has taken all the tears that these twins were handed at birth two years ago and has decided to keep them all for himself! His Twin is in serious danger from drowning in his painful tears.

What am I doing wrong? We need to take him somewhere right? The Doctors? They may be able to tell us what is happening...what is wrong with him...fix him...make him better perhaps?

Well, Mr & Mrs Tolmie, we have done some tests on Jason and they tell us that he has severe Haemophilia "A". He is bleeding internally into his joints and this is what has caused him to cry out all the time. He must have been in some quite considerable pain. He will need to be treated for the rest of his life by way of injection directly into his bloodstream. A number of small blood transfusions, if & when needed, that we will administer for him here at the......are you all right Mr Tolmie?

My God! My Son is going to die......bleed to death! What did I do to deserve this? I am a good man! Why me? Why us?? Why him!?!

Please don't worry too much Mr Tolmie. These fabulous life saving injections I told you about are absolutely the right thing for him now and will begin to make things for your Son and indeed you and your Wife much more tolerable. It isn't a cure, but it will go some way to prevent Jason from bleeding too much into his joints. In fact, he will no doubt be able to lead a very normal & productive life. There are absolutely no reasons why he shouldn't be able to live just like any other boy of his age.

That was 34 years ago in the year of 1973. That was my Dad...feeling sick that his Son might not be normal...that he might not live beyond the age of ten! My Mum was fine with it more or less. She is stronger than my Dad. My Mum is like me. Strong!

I was treated, cared for & injected at Hammersmith Hospital, London, from the time I was diagnosed in 1973...just two years after I was born along with my twin Sister Nicola, until my Dad had me transferred to the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead, London around 1976, because the doctors at Hammersmith couldn't even find a vein for nine injections out of ten! My Mum & Dad were fed up with seeing me being held down by several doctors at a time whilst they tried to find a suitable vein in which to administer the vital life saving Factor VIII.
We can teach you to do the injections at home Mr Tolmie. It's a very straight forward procedure...here, take this orange and pretend it is your Sons little arm. Go on, it is just like skin.
Oranges indeed! Give me my Son's arm! I shall do it into his bloody arm!

Eventually, after we had been at the RFH for a while he was taught properly and on real veins (mine) and not a selection of fruit...and then when I was about nine years old I injected myself. I was getting fed up with my dads tobacco stained fingers and their discoloured uncut nails from years of electro plating, as sharp as an eagles talons scratching my soft skin as he pulled it back to tighten the vein so the needle would go in better. He never missed, but I wanted to be a grown up and inject myself. I have been doing it myself & at home ever since. I am still treated & cared for at the brilliant Royal Free Hospital...but a few times during all the care and treatment...I was given some very bad news!

Before the injections in the safety of my own bedroom there were hundreds of trips in speeding ambulances to the Royal Free Hospital, my second home, in the black of night. Sirens screaming! Red lights ignored! I was in agony! I was quiet. I was lonely. I was tired. I was scared. I was still in my pyjamas for goodness sakes! Clutching my arm, rocking it gently back & forth like a baby in agony! Stroking the ever so tight skin, ballooned from swelling, with the fingertips of my other hand...my good hand. I even told the driver which way to go sometimes when he got lost. Accident & Emergency waiting rooms full to the brim with face slashed drunks, escorted by burly Policemen. Blood stains on the walls...blood stains on the floor. I tried to hide from it all. Sitting still like a statue, trying with all my might to disappear into the plastic chairs...trying to count the ceiling lights reflected onto the surface of the grimy bandage strewn waiting room floor. Desperately doing my best not to make eye contact with the blood soaked maniac sitting directly opposite! The orange squash vending machine made my mouth water as people came and went with their drinks. I was too shy to speak...even to my dad. Three or four times a week in the middle of the night (my Mum took me in the day and my dad at night) three or four hours each time...waiting...waiting! I wanted to be at home in bed...or dead! Anywhere but here!

My Mum & Dad got used to all that shit pretty quick, as did I, what with talk of blood...talk of pain...talk of hospital appointments...talk of special schools in Alton, Hampshire...talk of this...talk of that...But not much talk of the things that normal, healthy boys get up to! You mustn't ride a BMX...no motorbikes...no climbing trees...no physical education at school...no bloody nothing! Just stay in doors and stick needles into yourself everyday. Did I listen to them? A little yes...just a little;)
As long as they both looked after me well and made sure I didn't fall over too many times...and injected me with this life saving blood whenever I had a 'Bleed'...yeah, I was pretty much wrapped in cotton wool as a kid. After all, I needed protecting right? I needed that kind of treatment didn't I? To make me all better right?

Make me all better? Things couldn't have gone more bloody wrong!

You see, in the intervening years since I was diagnosed with severe Haemophilia 'A' and today, I was treated with this miracle drug called Factor VIII. It came in various forms...liquid plasma from human blood in a bag (Cryoprecipitate)...a small hard block of 'Dried Factor VIII Fraction' in a large glass bottle...and more recently, a loose kind of powder, apparently a synthetic form of Factor VIII (Helixate NexGen & Bayer Kogenate...both recombinant products) made to act exactly the same as natural Factor VIII, in a tiny glass bottle. I am sure there were more kinds of Factor VIII that I was given, but I am afraid I don't remember them.
All good stuff right? All designed to help...to protect...to save lives!

Ok, it seems to have saved my life...as I don't seem to have died! But I did feel dead for a while! A long while in fact! Why you may ask? Ok, I'll tell you. You see, I was injecting this stuff...gallons of this wonder drug and little did I know, it wasn't as wonderful as one was led to believe! You see it had 'Stuff' in it that was bad! Viruses of all sorts...viruses no one knew were hiding there. Quite well hidden as it turns out! They did well to find me though! Definitely two that I know of...that I have been told about, maybe three of the filthy little bastards! Perhaps even more than that!

I don't know the in's & out's of all these viruses that were given to me. That ain't my job! There are people working all over the world to see that this job is carried out correctly. But, it seems someone wasn't doing their job very well one day...one month...one year... one decade! Of course 'They' won't admit to that will they! It wasn't me...It wasn't anything to do with us! Have a word with so and so & if you don't get any luck there, then try somewhere else! But it wasn't us! Now piss off...& die already! So we can forget that this ever happened! Go back to playing doctors again!

Yeah! Tell me about it sunshine!

So, then along came my Hepatitis C...a very long time ago, Probably when I took in my first injection of Factor VIII. I must have known about it! I knew something wasn't quite right! They had three or four Doctors trying to hold me still whilst they pushed the stuff inside of me! Not just the once, but numerous times over the first several years after being diagnosed with Haemophilia. Then when I was infected, something else must have registered and I just let them do it. Put it inside me. Fill me up...make my pain go away...take away the terrible swelling...make me all better again...save my life, remember?
Of course, I didn't really know what was happening! But someone must have right? You don't inject into little boys & girls veins without knowing what you were actually injecting! You wouldn't do that to your own children would you?
But they did to me and my friends, and my friends friends! Some of my friends are dead already! Buried...cremated...rotten in the ground! Gone! What happened there eh? What killed them? I got the same shit as them! Why ain't I dead? Why ain't they still alive? When will it be my turn in the ground? My turn to rot! My turn to disappear.

I didn't find out about the Hep C that I was given until around 1996 or so. I can't remember exactly...I suppose I could find out from the hospital, but what would the use be? After all, I had other things on my mind to prevent me from thinking about the Hep C. It was called HIV! I got it the exact same way as the dreaded Hep C! A prisoner & his cell mate gives blood...gets paid for it...tells his neighbour...gives more blood...more money...blood sent away to a lab...pretty packaging...fancy labels...But not clean! Definitely NOT clean! Give it to them funny bleeder types! Give it to them right where it hurts! They won't notice! No one gives a shit about them!

Then one sunny morning, I was on my way up to the Royal Free hospital to attend a regular haemophilia appointment. I was asked to enter this small windowless room & sit down. I had been in there loads of times in the past. A picture that I drew for Mrs Miller, my haemophilia social worker, was hung on the wall...a boy on a bicycle. My Mum was by my side all the while. A TV and video recorder sat at one of the room. And a little video camera screwed into the wall high in one corner.

"Do you mind if we record this?" They asked.

Of course I didn't think anything of it. I was sitting with my Mum, and two seasoned professionals in the medical world. I was 16 years old and had the rest of my life ahead of me. I was enjoying college, I was good at it, even had a girl called Becky in my class who was interested in me! I had never had a girlfriend before and the prospect of being with someone in that way was terrifying, but exciting too. I was and still am still quite shy! It took me three months to say yes to her!
So there I was in this tiny, cold, very quiet room. There was a soft toy sitting on a chair in the corner. Surely not for me! I was 16 years old in 1987. I don't want soft toys! Give me a computer magazine instead...Or a piece of paper to doodle on! Or at the very least a biro so I can draw on the back of my hand.
I didn't hear most of what was said. I very rarely took in much of anything my Doctors told me over the years. What I did hear though was; "Jason. You have HIV" "And You have had it for the last two years".

They explained to me what it meant, but I just sat there and wanted to get back on the train home and look at the graffiti on the railway embankments. I was deeply shocked on the inside...stunned maybe...but strangely calm on the face of it...as was my mum.

What the fuck! I didn't want to die, I didn't want to get ill, I didn't want to have to say good-bye to my family & friends, standing around my hospital bed, crying their eye-balls out......snot dripping all over my skinny, AIDS riddled legs & arms! And what about Christmas? It was September and I couldn't see the next Christmas! I couldn't wash my hands in the sink, because of the ad on the TV. My Mum, although she doesn't remember saying it now, had already killed and buried me in her sleep she said......so she didn't have to think about it.
I went quiet and probably looked at the floor. Trying not to blink, so everything would eventually go white! As the lines in my black corduroy trousers merged into one dark fuzzy mess, I remember my eyes stung as they dried out from not blinking! The trip home was a blank...as were the next several years to be honest!

My college course soon waved goodbye to me when Becky & I eventually went out with each other, We both got booted out for not attending. Becky merged into a girl called Jac and she eventually merged into my best friend, then it was just me and my viruses, hospital appointments, AZT drug trials & other HIV related drugs trials, my joint pain and a sentence of death that seemed to come at me from every direction & in slow motion! Not so much living...but just alive! Cycling, kayaking, becoming addicted to my pain killers, not working and not much else! Weeks turned into months, months turned into years and years turned into my last girlfriend Claire. She came along out of the blue, made me feel a whole lot better about things for a while and then kind of disappeared into the blue too. We still speak occasionally, as do Becky and I. But there I was with my viruses again, and my cycling, kayaking, keeping fit, pain in my joints, more hospital appointments, being with my family, staying as healthy as I possibly can. It is very hard work, but I am determined to out live every other virus infected person through contaminated blood products on the planet!

Then one day, after years of Royal Free Hospital Hepatitis specialists saying to me that I might want to think about treating my Hep C, and me saying 'Yeah, I'll think about it.', and on reaching home duly sweeping the whole sordid memory from my mind - I was told that I should stop thinking about it and jolly well start asap!
I knew nothing about Hep C just then, except that it will kill you if you leave it too long or treat your liver like shit. Well, I had had it for over 30 years by this stage, but I had been looking after my liver as far as avoiding cigarettes & alcohol were concerned, however, my pain killers & HIV drugs were probably causing just as much damage!
So back in February 2006 I began! With hardly any information...I was given literature on the subject of Hep C & possible side effects over the previous few years, but all this went straight in the bin, with the attitude that I was looking after myself as well as I possibly could and no amount of leaflets were going to help me!
Before I knew it I had started 48wks of Interferon/Ribavirin treatment and had a pretty good time as it happens. I had heard that it can and does cause all sorts of nasty side effects for most people taking it. But I was one of the very lucky few to have had a great time so to speak.
It seemed to have done the trick too...I was undetectable at twelve weeks and again at 48 weeks...My six month post treatment 'SVR' blood test was taken in July 2007. The virus has gone! Hopefully. I have all but forgotten about my Hep C! My HIV is well hidden also because of the drugs that I take for it seem to be working too.

Things couldn't be better for me right now. I'm fit, healthy and more or less happy too. Actually, I haven't felt so alive in an absolute age!
But that don't make everything alright by any means!!! For instance...why the hell wasn't I told of my HIV status when I was first diagnosed with it? Why did my Doctors tell me two whole years after they found out? Were they absolutely sure that I wasn't pissing away my viruses into some poor girls body? Not to mention my bloody family & I, who were at risk all through those two years! Did they have someone spying on us? Making sure I wasn't leaking blood over everybody & everything? I don't think so! So who knows why they didn't tell me that I had a life threatening virus as soon as they first discovered I had it! I remember them telling me that it was because they didn't think I was old enough to understand what it meant! What the fuck! Since when did I come across to them as a complete retard back when I was fourteen! They always used to tell me how intelligent & sensible I was.

Again, I was lucky as were my family and friends also! But as with everything in life...your luck will eventually run out sometime right? Like all the poor bleeders, some of whom were my friends, who have already died from these very same viruses that I have given host to over the last 30 odd years!

Answers please!!!



Jason Paul Tolmie


P.s. This year is the twenty year anniversary since I started taking medications for my HIV...everyday, twice a day for twenty years. Can you hear me rattling?






(C) JPT 2007.........

No Time to Sit Down...

Benches get depressed too...


That's what it honestly feels like. Where did the last 365 days actually go? They just seemed to flash by as fast as a bolt of lightning hitching a ride on the back of my bike! Ok.....that is basically what the last year was made up of.........Cycling and biking and mountain biking and kayaking and a little hiking and some more cycling and thats about it really.....oh, and my 50wks of Hep C tx. Bloody hell it went by so fast!

Today is the one year anniversary of the day that I started tx for Hep C. I was scared, I was looking forward, I was worried, I was eager, I was curious, I was not bothered in the very least, I was bothered totally.............But the main thing was is that I was ready.....totally ready! They told me to expect the worst because I would probably experience some really tough shit. I had two weeks to get ready and prepare myself for tx they said. Little did they know, I had been preparing myself (unbeknownst to me) for the last 20 odd years. No smoke, no drink, plenty of exercise and with strong thoughts that I would someday be the only Haemophiliac to have been infected with HIV & HCV left alive on the entire planet! That way of thinking seems to have worked for me. Take the viruses by the bollocks, make friends with them & prevent them from killing you! Thats been my job since I was chucked out of college back in 1987 for not attending, because I was fed up and shit scared of dying......I also had just met a girl (Hi Becky) who took my mind off things & who made a very nice chicken with beansprouts in black bean sauce;)

So, on to the here & now.

Also, today is the day that my fellow Haemophiliac buddy finishes his 48wks worth of Hep C treatment. No mean feat at all! And he already has the brilliant news that he, like me, is still undetectable:) Well done Chris! Bloody well done buddy:) You can find his Blog over on the right hand side.....the top one listed in the 'More Hep C Blogs' section.

Still not looking forward to the dentist next Wednesday! I reckon I will go for an extraction (if at all).....get it out of the way and be done with it for good! But I don't even want to do that! Right now, I am really thinking about postponing the appointmet as the tooth in question isn't hurting at all. Not the best idea I have ever come up with I know, but if I ain't in excruciating pain, I keep my mouth shut;) I know I should get it done, but why change the habit of a life time? I have always been that way in that 'if I'm not in any really bad pain or coughing up blood or brown phlegm or finding blood in my poo or wee or a chest infection or ear infection', then I don't say anything to anyone. I can be a right old stubborn sod at times, but hey, it works for me.

Right.....do you remember the ride I did last Wednesday? The 33 miler giant figure of eight right around where my flat is? Just get a map of Richmond Upon Thames and draw a figure 8 around and joining Richmond & Bushy Parks, sticking to the Thames tow-path where you can and that was basically my ride. I live right in between the two parks right on the Thames. I had worked the mileage all down on paper from last Wednesday and since getting a proper trip computer at the end of last week, I did the exact same ride this Wednesday to see how accurate I was with the old fashioned technique. So after 3hrs 39mins I had actually completed 35.18miles. Two more than I did last week. I completed it slightly quicker too.....by six minutes. Probably had something to do with the fact that I was wearing my new blue Medic-Alert bracelet. It kind of acted as a rocket booster;) The weather was almost the same, what with it having rained the previous night quite heavily, the puddles were dodged with a certain grace and it was sunny too. The main difference was where there was a complete lack of wind (a good thing) last week, this time I was not so lucky! Half of the 35 miles I had a head wind! It was hot work but I am pleased that I did it again and a little quicker too. According to my trip computer, my little legs were pedaling for exactly 2hrs & 59mins. My average speed was 11.8mph, max was 25.6mph (almost undoubtedly down one of the hills in RP) and the temp was a very warm (for cycling) 12 degrees C! Good job I had shorts on:) It was a Lovely ride again. It is amazing how different it was......having said that, I did come across the same white Deer as I did the week before in BP, and they were in the same bloody place.....I got photos this time;) The sunset was beautiful again and the Swans were out in force as usual on the Diana Fountain in BP. And also I noticed that the midges are beginning to come out again along the river. Got to be careful not to breathe the little f*****s in and choke to death! Wether the paramedics know about my Haemophilia status or not isn't going to help me with a mouth full of flies;)
My legs were just as restless during the night and as I had managed last week, I kept the muscle cramps at bay too. It was harder work doing just 18 miles in the Surrey Hills on Sunday afternoon! My legs are ready for more right now. Good job too, as Lee & I are due for a night ride tonight up in the hills of Surrey.....if the rain stays off that is......otherwise it will be the Bushy half of the figure 8. Richmond Park is closed still from 8pm for Deer culling.

Anyway.....enough boring you to near death with eating flies and the complete lack of wind etc;) What about this little experiment that I have begun? Thats right......I started this little experiment last night to find out which of my HIV drugs are responsible for my evening side effects. I am hoping it is just the one pill and not a combination of all three of them. I am going to leave one of the drugs out of my scheduled 20:27pm drug regime and pop it at midnight on it's own and see if I experience the sides in question between 20:27 and midnight & then take the left out drug at midnight and see if the sides in question arise in the three hours they usually last for......does that make sense? It does to me;)
I left out the Sustiva (effavirenz) last night and it looks like I found the culprit already. None of the usual & quite obvious sides between the times that I normally experience them. And then Whooosh! About an hour after the single midnight Effavirenz pill popping, there they are! In all their spaced out whooshing along, blood pumping, mostly undescribable glory! I must continue with the experiment though, just to make sure. I shall put the Effavirenz back in it's normal time slot tonight and swap it with one of the others and make notes etc. But it already looks like I found the one......truly unmistakable sides! I was thinking what would be better.......going through the sides at the normal time in the evening or from midnight onwards? I might have to think about moving my entire drug regime times forward a few hours and take the Effavirenz nearer to 2/3am (when I usually fall asleep). I will have to bring it up with the Docs at the RFH. They don't even know about these sides that I have been experiencing for the last 7 years. But for the last several months the sides have been beginning to piss me off a little. I wanted to wait until I had finished my Hep C tx before I did any experiments etc.....In case they had an effect on the HIV drugs. I knew the sides in question weren't caused by the Interferon/Ribavirin because I have been experiencing these sides for years. Maybe they got a little worse towards the end of tx, maybe not. Or maybe I am just thinking about them more theses days? I shall write another post in a week or so when I have collected all the data.


A little bit about this posts photograph.

It is basically a wooden bench. The sort you would find in an English park or street. The sort that Loved ones have erected in memory of a dead relative. They have little brass plaques screwed onto the front with a little message etc inscribed onto it. This one however I saw floating downstream in the murky waters of the Kingston to Teddington Lock stretch of the river Thames on Wednesday afternoon during my bike ride. In fact, on the direct opposite side to where I took the photo from are the flats where I live. I'd like to think that the bench uprooted itself that sunny morning, fed up with life as a bench and smelly farty bottoms, graffiti, cigarette burns, 'Sharon Loves Darren' knife carvings and just jumped into the deep, dark, cold water of the river Thames to die. But in reality it was most probably pulled out of the ground and thrown into the river by yobs! Yobs who fart all too much, smoke too many funny fags, carry far too many fat marker pens and a who pack a flash flick knife or two to impress the girls........and almost certainly calling themselves Sharon & Darren Asbo! The bench that just wouldn't sit down!



Jason






(C) JPT 2007

40th Injection.......8 more left!

Colourful?........Undoubtedly! South Bank, last week.

After emptying exactly 40 syringes full of Interferon into my body I have only 8 left to go! If I had 1000 left to go I would still feel the same! I feel completely fine & perfectly comfortable with this toxic stuff inside of my body and will be slightly sad when I finish with my last one on the 18th of January just 5 days before my 36th Birthday. My body is used to such abuse, the kind of abuse that will ultimately save my life! From what though I often think! From less time alive on this tiny little planet of ours. So I can keep on abusing myself with poison in the hope I will be around to see........what exactly? I can imagine my family growing old........I have a very good imagination. I can even imagine them dying! I have even seen myself die, in a "clean" hospital bed surrounded by my family and friends, I am the exact same size as a 9 year old boy....just I can't move or talk and people are crying onto me, but I can't feel the tears that I see falling onto my skinny little boys arm....more needles.....more drugs! I don't want to die.......I haven't said goodbye yet!.............I can't say goodbye!!!
I too can imagine what the state of the planet will be in years to come.....do I really want to be part of that.....It seems I already am! I can't imagine myself, old and grey, naked looking in the mirror and thinking.......look at the state of you! What was the point in that? You look like a right mess! What were you thinking? But we all do it don't we? It just happens doesn't it? It's not like it happens over night is it? I mean if it did, we would die from shock with that first look in the mirror!
A few years ago, I was dead!........in my eye's anyway! I was a freak with bad blood and nobody would want to come anywhere near me! YOU ARE INFECTED!!! SO FUCK OFF OUT OF HERE!!!
So I did.......and I am still here......infected albeit with one less infection. You just wait and see, as soon as I clear this HCV, another will come along anyway! I have been waiting for something else to come along since I was told I had yet another virus! vCJD perhaps?............It's out there and I have had letters from Haemophilia experts that it is out there......."It" has my name on it! Then what about Cancer? Any form of cancer will do I suppose. One that takes a while to kill you would be fine. I do ever so much want to live up to my name after all......"The Mighty C".
I feel like the mouse in "The Green Mile" who just won't die! For just now I am doing my bit to get rid of Hep C, but what after? I will still have HIV and possibilities of more viruses in the future, I will be fighting this viral death for all of the rest of my life...........When does one become too tired to carry on? Just for how much longer will I be able to go out for a bike ride or walk even? If I didn't have these things.......I would be dead already! I imagine I will be able to deal with this for sometime yet as I am just so used to it already.
Get a job you lazy Cunt!
This is my Fucking job! And I'm not lazy!
Ok, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..............! What about a hobby or something?
This is my hobby!
Then I don't really know how I am going to help you?
I didn't ask for any.............I don't need any either! Thanks.
Right......ok, just so long as you know, thats cool.
I'm cool!

Isn't this post verging rather on the dark side? I'd say that you can't get anymore colourful!

Jason

Pills, Thrills & (Non) Needle aches.

For those who are interested in what just maybe keeping The Mighty C alive and well, here are the possible candidates for my still being here.

*****Warning: This post may be a little bit anoraky!*****

Factor VIII & a ruler.

Firstly (and in no particular order,) is my current paraphernalia needed to treat myself for Haemophilia. This is one batch of Factor VIII @ 1000iu (above). I would use this 3 times (3000iu) for a "Bleed" and 2 times (2000iu) for prophilactic treatment (preventative). The top bottle contains the Factor VIII in powder form. It is mixed with 2.5ml of sterilized water (middle vial) which also doubles as the syringe. The lid is taken off the top of the bottle (top) and the water (with cap removed) with syringe (middle) is screwed onto the bottle, then whilst holding the two (now connected like a couple of slugs having mad passionate sex) the syringe is depressed using the clear plastic thing until some kind of seal breaks and then the plunger (bottom) is screwed & pushed all the way into the syringe, releasing the water into the bottle with the Factor VIII powder. This mixes in record time compared to when I was a child, when you would have to wait what seemed like ages for the stuff to "melt". (I shall do a retro version of the Factor VIII stuff I used when I was younger in another post)
So, the stuff has mixed and is ready to draw back into the syringe (middle). Holding the whole lot vertical, with the bottle at the top, the plunger is pulled down until the syringe has filled back up with the water now mixed with some very tasty Factor VIII. The bottle is then unscrewed from the syringe and chucked away. Now you are left with the glass syringe and plunger ready for injecting. But first one has to push any air out of the syringe as injecting vast amounts of air into ones tiny little vein can cause instant death and exploding eyeballs! Failing that, your hair will turn white over night! Needless to say, neither has happened to me yet;)

Butterfly Needle and ruler.....again.

Then the Butterfly needle (above) is screwed onto the tip of the syringe and a Tourniquet is pulled around my upper left arm until a small slug sized vein pops up ready for a good sharp prick! After swabbing the area with alcohol I pull my skin tight where my vein is bulging and place the needle with bevel up and roughly horizontal with my skin. Aiming the needle with the orange wings of the butterfly inbetween thumb & index finger of my right hand, I push the needle in about half way or more in line with the vein. I don't feel any pain as I have used this area so often that it is completely numb (no small pricks in my house!) Then the job is to pull the plunger gently back until the thin clear tube connecting the butterfly with the section attached to the syringe fills with dark, red, hot metallic blood:) Just enough to force any air in the needle, tube and syringe to find it's way to the top of the syringe by virtue of something called gravity. Then I begin to squeeze the plunger gently letting it travel at it's natural speed, as like with the air going into ones vein, if you force the Factor VIII in to your vein, your fingers will swell like ballons and individually seperate from your hand, each with a small but very powerful jet of blood & wasted Factor VIII propelling them across the room and up into the rafters with all the other fingers!
As I normally mix 2 bottles, I need to swap the empty syringe with the next one whilst the butterfly needle is still hanging out of my hungry vein. Then when all has been pulled & pushed & fed the needle is slowly pulled out in exactly the opposite direction to the way it went in. A bit of bog roll on the tiny needle hole for a few seconds is usually enough time for the hole to heal. (remember: Always dispose of your used needles in a safe and hygenic manor)
So, thats that. If you were to time me, the whole episode would take no more that 3-4 minutes. And this is all done standing bolt upright in my kitchen whilst listening to the radio:) From behind, I could be very much mistaken for someone attempting to make a sarnie;)

Next up is the Incredible Interferon Injection.

Hep C virus Interfering Interferon & that bloody ruler yet again!

This next set of paraphernalia is used for the treatment of my Hep C (above). I have already squirted 37 of these little beauties into my left & right Love handles:) Here is one I used earlier. As you can see, the needle is about 1cm long and as thin as an old man's pube! (thanks Dad for the sample). It has 180 micrograms of virus slaying maniacs swimming around inside the watery looking liquid:) The needle comes seperately in a box that contains four syringes and four needles and nothing else! Not even a swab. But I'm not bitter, as I have millions of swabs from my Factor VIII stuff. Oh, the things I have done with those acohol swabs over the years;) Another post maybe.

F*****g ruler!!!!!

Above is the box I told you about. Pretty isn't it:) See the way the shadow is cast by the light.......& the red of the plunger is just enough not to make one a little dizzy;) And the needles are so un-noticable they almost seem like they are part of the box:)

Pretty box front & RFH label.......and that F***............No Comment!

Anyway.....After getting the syringe etc out of the fridge and leaving it for several minutes to reach room temperateure, The needle is just pushed onto the glass syringe until you think it won't fall off! Then grabbing an inch of chub somewhere near my Love handles between thumb & index finger I insert the needle at a 45 degree angle all the way in. Not too hard as this can lead to someting called "A needle in the spinal column!" Then gently pushing the bright red plunger into the syringe, the Hep C Interfering Interferon Virus Slaying maniacs are released into my chubiness and eventually find their way around my body looking for a Hep C showdown.....Air et al! I let them get on with it. After pushing the plunger all the way down until it stops, I leave it there for about a minute just so the whole lot finds it's way in. Then I remove the syringe connected to the needle from my side, the opposite way to that it went in, with no sign of entry or exit at all. No leakage ever, nor any pain:) I number the side of the syringe in permanant marker with the number of injection it was and put it away in an empty Interferon box for some later artistic idea I have ready for them once I have finished.

So, lastly but not leastly are my pills, capsules & tablets for my HIV & Hep C treatments.

My breakfast and dinner;) & no ruler:)

Firstly, the large capsule at the top of the photo is to be taken with plenty of water and before a meal.....................Hang on! Sorry! That is actually the thing that all the little ones below it go into. I do apologize;)
I am so glad to see that P*****G ruler has taken a run and jump into the nearest sharps box;) Instead here in place of the ruler are a couple of coins. One is a five pence peice from the UK and the other is some foreign coin I found in my change the other day;)
First up are my Interferon tablets; Ribavirin, the 3 pinky ovals on the right. I take 3 of these 200mg tablets twice a day.
The little tiny circular orange tablet is Folic Acid. I take this 5mg tablet once a day. This was prescribed along with my Hep C tx for some reason.
The shiny large looking cream coloured capsule on the left is called Ritonavir and Is for my HIV. I take 2 of these 100mg capsules twice a day.
The 2 dark orange tablets above the blue one are called Saquinavir and is for my HIV. I take 2 of these 500mg tablets twice a day.
The pretty blue one is called Tenofovir and is for my HIV. I take 1 of these 300mg tablets once a day.
The little white tablet is called Aciclovir (Zovirax in tablet form) & is for the prevention of cold sores due to HIV. I take 2 of these 200mg tablets twice a day for preventing the onset of cold sores.
And the largish yellowy tablet on the left is called Sustiva (Efavirenz) and is for my HIV. I take 1 of these 600mg tablets once a day. I take my tablets at 08:27 & 20:27 every day, every week, every month, every year since 1987 without fail!

And that's that! All done and dusted, swallowed, injected and pricked! It's a doddle;)

Jason

Being replaced

York House Gdns, Twickenham

Do you ever get that feeling that the only reason that you are here at all, is just so you can be replaced by a better, far superior model? One that isn't rotten or infected! And the sooner, the better me thinks!
In the photo of the statues, is one helping the other up, or is one being lowered down by the other? Either way could be for good or bad reasons! I was watching a man cutting back a gigantic tree outside of my flat. I was thinking the same thing. Is the tree being helped or damaged. The tree looked fine before, thick strong branches with plenty of leaves, all attached to a wide, accommodating trunk. And now it looks like a sheared sheep! I feel similar about myself sometimes. I feel as though the world would be a better place if the likes of me were "gone". Well, i must say, whoever those "people" are, they're not doing a very good job! I mean this year is my HIV's 21st Birthday. My Hep C's 30th. Celebrations all round me thinks:) I am serious too! I quite often feel like running around the streets and shouting at the top of my voice exactly what i have and for how long and say, look at me and look how healthy i am. Look what i can do!
They say life ain't easy! At the age of 16 i was told only of death! Death ain't easy either! But it's all i know! I want to live forever (or die trying), just so i can say "You can't replace me, there isn't anything wrong with me. And besides, i am too old".

Jason