The letter confirms the diagnosis, and states medical jargon about the liver enzymes that have increased as a result. I fell completely normal, and feel absolutely fine, apart from the usual hot sweats, aches and pains, that can be associated with temporary heroin withdrawal, on a daily basis.
This makes it seem so much more real, I keep forgetting it's happened. As I said, physically I feel normal. I have started to be a lot more anal about the 'works' (needles/injecting equipment) I use, better late than never eh? I just keep thinking, at least this is curable, not in everyone maybe, but in most. At least it's not HIV which is only 'treatable', not curable. It's never too late to catch that either. I have learnt the hard way, it's easier and more common to catch these viruses than you think. I don't want to put myself at risk ever again. Eventually I will abstain from heroin use altogether, but in the mean time I want to put myself in the position of never having to go for a blood test for another virus, as I will be completely and utterly confident in the outcome. Never will I put myself at risk again.
In the mean time, I await the appointment at the clinic with anticipation, and many questions going round, and round my head. When will treatment start? How will I react to treatment? How long will it take? Will I respond positively? Will I be cured? What will happen if I don't get cured? What genotype do I have? this last question is one of the most important, as it effectively determines the chance of a positive outcome.
Like I said before, the fight has begun.
The letter, as I said, outlines the increases in destructive enzymes they have found in my blood. This is to be expected, but still makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck thinking about it. It's so strange that their is this destructive virus in my body, ticking away like a little time bomb, destroying a major organ, bit, by bit, and yet the body has masked it's intrusion. How clever is the human body? I just can't stop thinking about this thing inside me, I wish I could just tear it out.
How come everything takes so long? I know I should be grateful, I live in a country where excellent healthcare is available for free, but I keep reading that if it can be caught in the first 6 months (the acute phase), and I know I have definitely caught it within 14 months, at least, then my chance of responding to treatment is up to 90%. So why the delay if I have that chance? The first blood test took two weeks, then the second took two weeks, now the hospital appointment is another two weeks, I just hate the delay, knowing this thing is, admittedly very slowly, killing me.
I just want to crack on. The more that time goes on, the more I start to forget, and I know more than anyone, complacency is deadly.
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