Sunday, May 31, 2015

green apples and tomatoes

Tonight I’m feeling Lupus. It’s 1 am and we’re having dinner. Ammu, Abbu, Sazia, and I are all talking about my mother’s addition of a chopped green apple in the salad, which also has tomatoes. I slide the tomatoes to an isolated corner on my plate while Ammu tells me eating them prevents cancer. I pick green apples off of Sazia’s plate, annoying the shit out of her. She’s leaving for college soon and I won’t survive without her. Sabia’s also moved out now and has a kitten named yoni, vagina in Sanskrit. Yoni because of Yoni ki Raat -- she was the only kitten in the theater during my performance on being sexually touched and fingered as a child by uncles.

This week I have pains I can’t touch, can’t get rid of with Advil, which you know I take everyday. Last Tuesday I met with Dr. Chevalier, the kidney guy, after almost two years. I went in looking for Dr. Patel, the cute fellow (incredibly cute fellow), but only met with a serious-faced Dr. Chevalier. “If you don’t take this more seriously, you’ll be on dialysis.” Well, I had a senior thesis to write and finish. I also had to graduate...with my friends. I work full-time now. You know, the medical institution also sucks! My friends helped me pay the last six months of medical bills. But only met with a serious-faced Dr. Chevalier. Fine, I suck at Lupus. I’m terrible at caring for myself.

I picked up the Cozaar tablets three nights later. I asked the pharmacist if she could cut the tablets in half as prescribed. “No, you do that yourself.” Anxiety filled my body as I remembered tablets post-incision crumbling or flying across the dining room. I suck at tablet cutting. I laid out 15 in front of me on layered paper towels. I’m gonna master this. I grabbed my favorite kitchen knife. I’m pretty sure there are devices to split pills, why didn’t I ask for one? Some are eventually swept up by mom. Others are broken into too many pieces to collect, camouflaged on the white paper towel. The majority are perfect halves.

I had already been taking Cozaar 50 mg. With the newly added 25 mg, my body does not feel like mine. My week began with an achy body. This is usually the standard for me which I relieve through Advil. However, the Advil didn’t do the fix on Monday. My tonsils are swollen, with a painful sore throat that evening. Panting after walking a few steps. Anxious and sad on my ride to and from work Tuesday. Wednesday I took a sick day and comforted myself with several doses of NyQuil. On Thursday, I continue feeling achy and sore as if my body had endured a war. Perhaps it is enduring a war. My fingers are swollen. It hurts to walk. The culprit is Cozaar. At least that’s what I think after Googling ‘Cozaar side effects’. 

That a single tablet has the capacity to make me feel in these ways fascinates and scares me. The sadness engulfed in me is unlike any other times I’ve felt sad. I am crying especially on trains where I feel most anxious and free. Erratic thoughts consume my mind as I jump from thinking why did I choose organizing as my first full-time job to do I have friends to who are my friends to will I survive Lupus to what is the point? This week is my saddest sad. And I know Cozaar is not all that is at fault. Though I wish it was and discontinuing the medicine would end those pains.

Ammu grilled tilapia on the George Foreman I recently purchased. She’s already used it more than I ever will after complaining about all the faltu purchases I’ve made this year. Sazia helps herself to more salad and drops a piece of apple into my father’s glass of water.