bird of paradise
Badger Hoo Art Print by Victoria Morris →
I’ve kind of given up on this webzine comic because I’ve been fighting some crippling depression while trying to recover from Lemtrada and return to grad school. It’s just too much right now. If you’d like to support my work, I’m going to be posting new designs and art on my society6 page.
Image: In a blank void, the artist floats with limbs out in a giant bubble.
Text: I didn’t really mind being in the hospital over Christmas. The holiday doesn’t have much meaning for me. I got three meals a day, exercise and cable TV. There was a Doctor Who marathon. A couple of friends came to visit, I got food delivered and the nurses were nice. In fact, most of the previous pages were finished in the hospital. I could have stayed forever but for two things: restarting grad school and running out of Ampyra, which the hospital cannot stock.
Image: The author rests in bed with slipper socks pointing out on her feet. A black hospital curtain walls her off.
Text: “I ended up in the ER again. The kid in the other bay kept having seizures. They sent him on to the Children’s hospital and I went to the 6th floor rehab.”
Image: Landie sits on a rolling chair, the author sits besides her folded legged eating a sandwich and some iced coffee.
Text: My friend and neighbor Landie came with sandwiches and coffee. I eventually got up with the help of 911 and she tried to help me shower. I fell again.
Image: The author rests on a narrow table with her injured arm outstretched, electric bolts coming out of the elbow. An arrow points to her head, with tension bursts popping above. An arrow says, crying with pain. The second panel features her getting up off the table.
Panel 1 Text: On Friday, I fell hard into my fridge. I thought I broke my arm. 911 was called - my legs weren’t working well at all! I was only a contusion so they released me to home.
Panel 2 Text: Speech bubble from the author’s mouth says, “How am I supposed to survive with only one working limb?”
Image: 12/18. The author’s floating head says, “Maybe if I draw these PT exercises, I’ll remember to do them.”
1, AROM knee ext (LAQ) (sitting)
On a chair, the author lifts her leg out straight.
2. Double heel raise.
In hospital slipper socks, the heels get raised.
3. Toe raises
Still in slipper socks, the toes get raised.
4. Pillow Squeezin’
The pillow goes between the legs and arrows indicate squeezing with the thighs.
Image: Barbara looks out the window.
Text:
Question 5: Having finished the third round, are you anxious about side-effects or what happens next if Lemtrada continues to fail?
“Unluckily, I developed Grave’s Disease as a side-effect of Lemtrada and I may have to have my thyroid taken out. And yes, in the back of my mind, the spectre of continuing disability looms large. I am always waiting for the next relapse. I know it will happen. I just don’t know when. Sometimes I feel as if I am living on borrowed time and have to do as much as possible in this window of opportunity. How long will it last?”
Image: Five wrinkly brains float in a sea of black wrinkly space-time patterns.
Text:
Question 4: You’re one of the few people I know of who has done more than the initial two founds. How do you feel about the redose?
“Getting a letter recommending I take a third course was shocking and out of the blue. My previous scan had been re-examined and the relapse I had was confirmed by new lesions. It felt like the end of the world. Was this going to be a pattern for me until the very end? What’s after Lemtrada? Nothing. It’s the highest you can go. I met someone who was taking her fifth course and we are both frightened of the future. However, I’m so grateful for the medicine. Without it, I don’t know what my life would look like. I certainly wouldn’t be taking a Master’s or considering a PhD.”
Image: Barbara opens her arms as she speaks.
Text:
Question 3: What has been the best part of taking Lemtrada?
“Best part is the symptom relief. I got my life back. Until the next relapse at least.”