One way that I’ve dealt with this has been by developing a rather wry sense of humor, which hasn’t really been appreciated by my doctors.
The last time I saw Doctor C and it was suggested that I go on cellcept, I was told that basically the medication would cause my T-cells to commit suicide. So I told Doctor C that it was either them or me, and I would rather have my T-cells be the ones to commit suicide than myself.
You know, the doctors get squeamish when I cry; they don’t like it when I laugh. I’m doing the best I can. I’m learning how to deal. Maybe they should to…
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