It was in 2007 when I noticed a small mark on my temple. It started to grow and was difficult to heal. I was told that it was a common type of a skin cancer and soon after the diagnosis I had the surgery. Before the procedure some routine blood tests were required. The screening detected the presence of the Hepatitis C virus particles. My Dad told me about the results. After that all I remember is fear. I didn’t know much about it. What will happen to me? To my partner? To my family? How to protect them? Separate food, dishes, cutlery? Not touching people that I love? All these questions.. I couldn’t imagine… I cried a lot…
I might have had it for years before it’s been diagnosed. I don’t know where I got it from, even if I knew, it wouldn’t change a lot. The therapy started on the 16th of Feb 2009. The genotype of virus that I had was giving me less than 50% chance of curing it. I was giving myself injections and taking pills throughout the following 48 weeks. I had a long way to go.
I was aware of the side effects, I was scared, but that time I wasn’t taking into account that it could happen to me. When I started to feel weak, I was thinking that maybe it’s normal, maybe it’s caused by something else… Even though it was often hard to force myself to get out of bed, I was trying to live the normal life. But over a period of time it slowed me down. There were times when I wished I stopped the therapy. I was exhausted, my head, my muscles, my bones were sore. When I couldn’t get over it, I was going straight to bed and was waiting for the hours to pass. It was hard to wake up and hard to fall asleep. I had no energy that I used to have, any physical work was exhausting. Things I was able to do before without any effort, now started to become impossible, it was frustrating. I remember I went for a walk in the mountains once. Route I used to go hundreds of times took me twice as long. I lost almost 10 kilos, I was loosing hair, I felt a bit as if I was vanishing. I didn’t have appetite, I couldn’t concentrate, I was trying to read, but I couldn’t focus. I was depressed. I know that it was very hard for people around me to deal with it. I was trying not to show as much pain as I really felt. I did get used to it. But being happy was very hard sometimes…
When you see a person with no legs it’s obvious that they’re suffering. My pain was invisible, but there were people who understood. Maybe they couldn’t feel what I felt, but they cared for me more than I cared for myself. They gave me more than I would expect. So much patience and attention. And I couldn’t give them anything. I had no joy for life, I wasn’t myself and I knew it. There were moments which I will never forget, tears come to my eyes… I’ve learned so much.
It was all in my head. I was feeling tired but I carried on. I started to notice ordinary things, in everyday life, things that I appreciate, I see beauty in things which are imperfect. And I slowly started to pay off my debt to people that I love. I think that there’s more serenity in everything that I do. It’s not that I don’t care or lost my ambitions, I just believe more. I’ve got two hands, two legs, I can breath, I can hear, I can see. It’s amazing.
