I guess there are blessings and curses about nearly every aspect of life. I think I just blew the chance to get in on a stem cell research project because I didn't volunteer for it before I started take the prescription drug methotrexate. The doctors didn't really tell me that what they were doing was stem cell research.
They may not be doing stem cell research, but I'm pretty sure they are. I'm just guessing that's from what was going on from my first visit to the specialists to my last visit to the same doctor. I read about some stem cell research some other doctors were doing in which they got the stem cells from the bone marrow of the patient. The research program I had a chance to get into was about taking some bone marrow from my bones. They did tell me that much, but I didn't have enough background information to make the intuitive leap.
Today I decided to do a little more research on methotrexate. Specifically the side effects. One aspect of the side effects got my attention. It was a warning about men using methotrexate that their babies might be deformed because of the way the drug works on a man's body. It was while I was reading about that that I read that methotrexate affects the bone marrow in some way.
The last doctor's visit he told me that I would be on methotrexate for the rest of my life. That was surprising because I had asked him on my first visit if that would be the case. He told me then that there was a chance I might not be on the drug all my life. I felt good about the possibility might not be on this or any other drug for the rest of my life, but all that's changed now. Not only am I gonna be on it the rest of my life, but it's gonna be the death of me besides. Double bind. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
When I got home from my first visit the doctor called me at home and again asked me if I had changed my mind about volunteering for the research program, and I said no. He asked me twice. I said no, but I didn't really know what I was saying no to. As far as I was concerned they wanted a guinea pig for something I didn't understand, and they sort of acted like it was none of my business.
The sequence of events about how this happened is messed up, and if I were to do the right thing I'd rewrite it in a more sensible fashion, but I'm not.
I called the VA Hospital in Durham yesterday and talked to one of the administrators of the rheumatology department and explained that I'd changed my mind, and now I wanted to volunteer, but after reading about the side effects of methotrexate and how it affects the bone marrow I realize that they want be able to get unaffected stems cells from my bone marrow or probably anywhere else in my body because this drug is so pervasive.
I'm just realizing the implications of this. My stem cells are screwed because of the methotrexate. No matter what discoveries they make about the miracles possible with stem cells I'll never be able to participate. I'll die a horrible death from kidney damage from the drug. Oh, I didn't mention that kidney failure is one of the side effects of methotrexate. Surprise, surprise... why am I always the last to know.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
