December 2014
Before anything comes into focus, I notice the white light. The sterile glow of fluorescent tube lighting fills the room in which I find myself. Streaks of sharper yellow pour over my body, over the white, waffled bedsheets tucked neatly under my body, over the narrow crunchy bed in which I lay, over the faded white walls around me, over the machines that beep and drip clear and coloured liquids into my veins. I jerk my head to the right, desperately looking for the time, but exhaustion owns my body, dimming my movements. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I use all my strength to force my eyelids wide.
I can’t be dead because my mom is in the chair next to me.
“Mom?” I whisper. My voice is hoarse and dry. I try again, “Mom?” She shifts in the chair, book in hand and looks up. Her face – long and pale – mirrors her long slouched posture.
“Yes, Kayla?”
“I can’t remember what day it is,” I try to wiggle my tongue to wet my throat enough to speak.
“It's December 23rd, tomorrow is Christmas, we are going to Tadi Silvia’s remember?” Oh right. I remember now. Tadi means aunt in Estonian. Being from Northern Europe, we don’t celebrate Christmas Day.
“Are we almost done?” I say.
“Yes, the nurse just put you on a flush, but we have to get your arm cleaned before we go because of the infection,” Oh right. I remember now. Bit by bit, I begin, in silence, to recall everything that has happened. Today is my second session of chemotherapy treatment. My PICC line is infected. I have stage three cancer.
The machine next to me beeps and nurse Karen walks into my room. I met Karen during a chemotherapy info session that my mom forcefully dragged me to in November. Karen is the hospital mom around here.
“How’s my little one doing today?” She asks with an underlying Australian accent. Karen unhooks the IV machines and sits down beside me, “I heard we have a little arm infection going on. Let’s get you cleaned up and home before it snows,” Karen plops herself on the rollaway stool beside my bed. A teal blue scrubs uniform covers her round frame. I smile at her, lean over and peel off my thick green sweater, exposing my PICC line. A PICC – peripherally inserted central catheter – line refers to an external IV that travels through a large vein up your arm and into a large blood cavity in your chest. I stare at the makeshift cloth Band-Aid and paper tape around my arm. Last week, before the infection, a clear plastic sticker suctioned the PICC to my arm. Carefully, Karen lifts up the corner of the tape and exposes the open IV.
Large welts ooze yellow puss on my sensitive skin. Tiny scales overlap each other and circle the plastic tubing sticking out of my arm. I squirm at the overwhelming itchy sensation. It doesn’t help.
“Oh well that’s just lovely isn't it,” Karen laughs. I laugh. My mom laughs. Karen opens two syringes filled with salty water. Gently pushing the pump, she squirts cool, clean saline onto the scales of my arm and rubs it around with sterile fabric. The movement of her fingers across my arm gently exfoliates the flakey rash. Karen turns to grab a cloth and pats the infected area dry. New bits of puss ooze through the freshly cleaned skin. She applies a thick layer of hydrocortisone cream, instantly stopping the itchy feeling and wraps up my arm in large, holey cloth bandages. Karen claps her hands together, “There you go, good as new. I’ll see you in two weeks. Happy Christmas!”
Mom and I walk out of the treatment room and quickly shuffle to the car. Exhaustion overwhelms me as I plop into the cold Honda Accord. Mom starts the car, waiting a few moments before she pulls out of the vacant lot. We turn left onto the QEW and drive westbound. I glance out the window and spy thick clouds, shunning the sunlight and morphing the sky into a symphony of grey and black.
My name is Anna, and I’d like to share my journey of battling oral and genital herpes. For four long years, I found myself caught in a relentless cycle of discomfort, anxiety, and stigma. Despite trying various medications, I felt like I was losing the battle. The frequent outbreaks impacted not only my physical well-being but also my emotional health and social interactions. I often felt hopeless, believing that I was destined to live with this condition forever.
ReplyDeleteDuring this difficult period, I exhausted numerous treatment options, from antiviral medications to topical ointments. While some provided temporary relief, none offered a permanent solution. Each time I experienced an outbreak, I felt overwhelmed by anxiety, constantly worrying about how it affected my life and my relationships. I often felt the weight of stigma associated with herpes, which left me feeling isolated and misunderstood.
It was during this period of struggle that I came across information about Dr. Utu’s herbal remedy online. Initially skeptical, I decided to reach out to him via email at drutuherbalcure@gmail.com. To my surprise, Dr. Utu responded quickly and with genuine compassion. He provided reassurance and took the time to understand my situation. After discussing my symptoms and medical history, he tailored a personalized herbal remedy for me. His approach was holistic, and felt comforting compared to the clinical nature of conventional treatments I had been receiving.
I committed myself to following his instructions diligently, incorporating the herbal remedy into my daily routine as advised. Throughout the treatment, I felt hopeful for the first time in years. Dr. Utu remained supportive, checking in on my progress and encouraging me to share any changes I observed.
Upon completing the treatment course, I felt an overwhelming mixture of anticipation and anxiety as I prepared for my medical tests. My heart raced as I awaited the results, unsure of what to expect. To my astonishment, the first test confirmed I was herpes-free! In disbelief, I scheduled a second test to confirm those results, and once again, it came back negative.
The moment I received those results was life-changing. I realized that I had finally overcome the stigma and suffering that had consumed my life for so long. I felt a profound sense of relief and liberation; finally, I could envision a brighter future without the shadow of herpes looming over me. My overall quality of life has significantly improved since that day. I can freely engage in social activities, enjoy relationships without fear, and experience life without the constant anxiety of outbreaks.
Dr. Utu’s herbal remedy not only offered physical healing but also restored my confidence and peace of mind. I am incredibly grateful for his support and expertise, which truly made a significant difference in my life. For anyone out there struggling with herpes or any similar condition, I strongly encourage you to consider reaching out to Dr. Utu. His herbal remedies are not just effective; they represent hope and healing. Your journey may feel daunting, but know that there are options available. You don’t have to suffer in silence.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope my experience offers encouragement to those facing similar battles. You are not alone, and there is hope for a happier and healthier life ahead.