Aaahh Predisnolone (aka Predisone aka Pred aka The Ellis-Bextorizer aka Spector's Fuzzy Wigs) what is there to say? Well thanks to you my mouth and eyes do not erupt into suppurating fountains of ulcerated pus - which I find is always nice, especially if you are expecting company - but equally, thanks to you I have very quickly developed a gut like a Kalahari Bushman and a face that is starting to look like I sleep with a shoe box face mask on at night. Also my testicles have grown to 3 times their normal size (OK, I made a bit up there - we're not really expecting company...)
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| Spector's FuzzyWigs - just say 'No' kids! |
Whilst it is a shame that I've ended up back on this gear again I can see the thinking behind it. There is a need now to break the cycle of immuno-suppression, CMV reactivation, CMV medication, falling blood levels etc etc. So my daily dosage of Ciclosporin - the major supressant has been dropped by about a third to 100mg twice daily. The Pred (25mg alternate days) has been introduced to damp down any GVHD flare up that may occur and I suppose that the intention is to normalise me to this and gradually titrate my dosage down. Well here's to it - it would be nice to feel that I'm progressing in some way after struggling for so long to achieve a stable state.
In other news - we are all moved in to our new house in the North Western Sydney suburb of Rouse Hill (a microcosmic Milton Keynes) and at the very butt end of unpacking the 270 odd cardboard boxes that comprised our entire possessions from the UK. Hats off completely to the packers and shippers as the only breakages that have occurred so far have been blue on blue ie Jeannette and I merrily trashing glasses and plates with our ham fisted unpacking. The place is still in a bit of disarray but the next few weeks will see things settle as we adjust the layout to best suit the way we live. The weather (I know, typical Brit) has been extraordinary, hot and very humid in the am followed by insane downpours and thunderstorms in the pm - the amount of rain that has come down in the past 10 days is unbelievable by UK standards, but the land here is so parched that it just blots it up and blooms.
The local preschool has managed to shoe horn Milo in for a few more days - he definitely benefits from being around his own species as much as I benefit from the respite of having every single fucking action I take throughout the day being subject to continuous interrogation. He is all teed up for primary school in the new year and starts on Feb 2nd. We had a little bit of a surprise when it came to signing him up for the school - even though it is run by the NSW Government, as 457 visa holders we have to stump up $5k pa to pay for his education = so much for the reciprocal special Commonwealth arrangements.
My son also excelled himself recently on his second visit to the local GP. In order to comply with local health authority measures he had to have a general medical check up before his fifth birthday ears, eyes, nose, throat, joints, reflexes etc. It was all a bit rushed as he turned five years old on 7th December, so on the 6th we had him booked in for his MOT.
His behaviour during the examination was just so bad that the GP was referring us to the NSW Gov website for children with behavioural problems by the end of the session - not only that but she was left with the impression that he is partially blind, spatially challenged and completely illiterate as he cannoned around the consulting room claiming that he couldn't even see the eye test chart let alone read the letters on it. Jeannette even jumped in at one point to indicate the letters he should read - Milo later claimed that he couldn't read them as he thought she wanted him to read the letters in the row below (which were of course covered by her finger). All this in spite of passing an eye test with flying colours when Jeannette had him tested 2 weeks befor leaving the UK. The more we tried to explain to the GP how uncharacteristic this behaviour was, the worse he got and you could see her forming the opinion that we'd been sitting in the car park outside before the appointment smoking crystal meth and feeding the boy cat food and e-numbers. Little Shitehawk.
It was only after we got home that I realised I should have said to the GP " He's only started acting like this since you gave him that Hepatitis B shot a couple of weeks ago" and then watched her expression.
