Long-Term Side Effects - The Thyroid Gland

The interferon and ribavirin chemotherapy has been over for eight months. That seems to be an appropriate amount of time to examine the long-term side effects of the therapy. In an early post, (which you can get byclicking here), I listed all the side effects of both the polymerase inhibitor test drug RG7128 and the standard interferon and ribavirin chemotherapy. It is a long list. While some of the side effects are relatively mild, a significant number of them are potentially very serious.  The one on which I'd like to concentrate today is the effect of the therapy on the thyroid gland.

In the initial literature handed out at the beginning of the experimental trial, it was noted that the functioning of the thyroid might be affected and in some cases the effects might be permanent. The wording of the literature led one to believe that while thyroid function might be affected during the trial, there was a good chance that the thyroid would return to normal after the interferon and ribavirin was stopped. At about the 6-week mark of the trial my thyroid function numbers began to deviate from normal. The level of TSH in my blood (which stimulates the thyroid when it’s activity is low) began to rise. During the next few weeks it tested at 10 iu/ml and then at 25 and 30 and then finally at 55. This level indicates that thyroid gland is not functioning remotely normally. At this point I was put on levothyroxine and within about 3 weeks my thyroid level was back to normal. I stayed on the levothyroxine for the rest of the time I was in the experimental trial and continued it through the transition to the standard of care interferon and ribavirin chemotherapy. I was on that program for an additional 13 months and I stayed on the thyroid medication the entire time.

When the standard chemotherapy ended I talked to the gastroenterologist at Kaiser who runs their Hep C program about procedure that I should use to wean myself off the thyroid medication to return to normal thyroid function without medication. In reply to this question, he replied that in his experience the standard of care interferon and ribavirin combination usually burned out the thyroid gland and I would most likely be on thyroid medication for the rest of my life. Knock me over with a feather. This was not what I had assumed to be the case nor was it the case that was presented in the initial discussion of side effects at the beginning of the experimental trial. I have no idea what my reaction would have been if the potential thyroid effects had been described in that manner. I may have decided to go through with the trial anyway and may not have, but I do wish that the information had been stated in a very clear and concise manner. It leaves one with the feeling that the research doctors know damn well that the thyroid side effects are likely permanent, but that it is not to their advantage to say that. If you tell someone that there is an interferon-based regime that, with the addition of an experimental drug, will have a 75% chance of curing hepatitis C but will result in the permanent sacrifice of the thyroid gland, how would they find enough subjects for their drug trials. Would anyone short of those whose life was truly in danger because of the effects on the liver of hepatitis C be willing to go through an interferon-based therapy?

If the choice had been put to me that way, I certainly don’t know what I would have done.  I knew then that my liver was not in bad shape. My liver functions were abnormal and my viral load was very high but my liver itself was not badly swollen and did not exhibit heavy scarring. I might have just said let's wait till newer therapies become available, though at the time it was not known that any drugs would be coming through the pipeline soon that did not involve using interferon and ribavirin as well. I don't know what I would have done but I wish I had better information when I made the choice.

Not wanting to believe that I was one of the people whose thyroid was burned out, I decided to wean myself off the levothyroxine and see what happened. I started out by taking my normal dose (100 mg) for the first two months after the end of the therapy. At that time I reduced my dose to one half (50mg) for the next month and then reduced it further to 50mg every other day for another 6 weeks. I stopped taking the levothyroxine for the final 3 weeks before my six-month viral load test. I asked my doctor to test my thyroid enzyme levels at that test because I had been attempting to wean myself off the levothyroxine. He agreed and when the test came back my TSH hormone level was at 53 indicating that indeed my thyroid was not operating and may never operate again. So I am back on levothyroxine and probably will be for the rest of my life. It's an uncomfortable feeling to know that your health will always be dependent on your ability to secure a supply of a particular drug that provides an essential ingredient for your survival but it's certainly not unique to me. People with diabetes have had to deal with this for a very long time, as have people with AIDS and folks with other diseases that I am no doubt forgetting about. It's just one of those things.

But it's something to consider if you are in a position of entering any therapy or drug protocol in a drug trial that uses interferon. Whatever benefits you are going to be getting from the use of interferon will most likely come at the cost of your thyroid gland. Weigh it carefully. It may be the lesser of two evils and you may decide to go-ahead with the therapy but always remember the costs that will be exacted.

Six Months Later…Viral Breakthrough

I recently had six month after treatment blood test to determine if I achieved a sustained viral response or SVR. The results came back today and the Hep C virus is back. My viral load is currently at 1 million IU/ml. This completely sucks. 18 months of interferon and ribavirin including 5 months of an experimental polymerase inhibitor RG7168 aka RO5024048 that produced the side effects of weight loss, depression, inability to concentrate, lack of energy, memory going to hell, anemia, and I'm sure others, that the memory problems prevent me from remembering; all of this to achieve nothing. It is getting hit by the million pound shit-hammer all over again.

 I knew at the beginning that the traditional therapy only resulted in a 45% chance of clearing the virus. So when I had the chance to get into the trial of the RG 7128 aka RO5024048 polymerase inhibitor which, in early-stage experiments had demonstrated a rate of clearing the virus of up to 75%, I jumped at it. I'd hoped that the experimental drug would clear the virus. Even after the viral breakthrough that resulted in my expulsion from the test group I still thought that transitioning to standard therapy after the initial success of the experimental drug might give me a small leg up on clearing the virus.

Perhaps the fact that it took 12 weeks for the traditional interferon/ribavirin therapy to bring my viral load down from only 40,000 IU/ml to clear should have tipped me off. Maybe it should have shown me  that the strain of virus that I have would be resistant to my own immune system and traditional therapy and I would perhaps be more likely not to clear the virus then to succeed, but no one wants to face that possibility. When you have already been in a process for six months and you've already faced the side effects and found that, to a point, you can handle them; and you believe you have a chance of clearing the virus; and you don’t know what your health insurance is going to be like in another year or two or whenever a new therapy might come online; and the fact that you have insurance now; and you’re stubborn and you're optimistic; it all puts you in a mind to say I'm going to see if sticking this out will succeed in bringing me to a sustained viral response and a cure.

Well it didn't. So in a sense I look at the last two years of my life, the 18 months on the therapy and the six months beginning to recover from it until the day of the test, as being wasted. I did not get much accomplished during those two years. While I was able to do very good things at work (including expanding the scope of my operation, systematizing and streamlining all of the processes, integrating a part-time person and training them in handling the basics of the operation, and increasing sales and average of 25% per year), that is cold comfort. Just doing that, just functioning on a day-to-day basis and going to my job eventually took so much energy that it left little time and little energy for any part of a personal life. My work and efforts as a sculptor were minimal, my ability to do things with my friends and family were cut way down by the fact that it was exhausting to do anything for very much time at all. It all infuriates me even though I knew that it was only a 50% chance at success. I don't think anyone ever enters a situation like this thinking that they're going to fail and I certainly didn't. The fact that the therapy did not work leaves me feeling somehow cheated. It's not rational, but there it is. You feel that if you spent that much time, that much energy (or lack of it) invested that much hope and effort, something better should have happened. It didn't and I feel somehow empty.

All that being said, on the good side all my liver functions are normal. My doctors tell me that the results that they're getting from the liver tests would indicate that the time that I spent clear of the virus during the therapy, (which totaled about 12 to 14 months out of the 18), allowed my liver to begin to heal itself. The swelling is reduced. It is functioning well and I have bought additional time with a healthy liver. I also learned that I can handle the therapy. I learned that the side effects I got with the standard interferon ribavirin  chemotherapy and with the RG7128 are ones that I can manage. I know that a lot of people have a much more difficult time than I ever did during the traditional therapy. There are people who are so exhausted they can barely move; people whose anemia is frighteningly intense; people who have much more severe depression; people who lose even more weight than I did; people who have even less energy and people whose cognitive facilities and memory decline even further than mine. I realize that the ones who have it far worse than I did must feel even more empty or betrayed or depressed when they find out that it didn't work. Because as difficult as it was for me, if I had gone through even 12 months of the sort of difficulties that others with this disease undergoing the same therapy went through, I don't know if I could ever face doing it again.

 I'm sure at some point I will do it again. I don't like the idea of managing this disease. I don't like the idea of having something in my body that is gradually destroying my liver, breaking down my cognitive functions and creating in the long run a less energetic less mentally sharp individual. I don’t like the possibility of developing serious liver problems that might include liver cancer, cirrhosis and result in the need for a transplant. Though  my doctors told me that given my liver results I am the sort of person who is more likely to die with hepatitis C than from hepatitis C, I don't want to have it at all. The idea that a lifeless particle of protein wrapped around some DNA is working its way through my body destroying my liver doesn't fit my disposition. So I will try again at some point.

 I don't know that I will ever try interferon therapy again. It is extremely devastating and I don't know if I can face it even though I do suffer it better than many other people. There is a tremendous amount of research going on and a lot of that is oriented towards non-interferon drug combinations to attack the virus. There's a lot to look forward to and I know that I'm in good shape to see where it leads.

It's still depressing, it still sucks but you buck up and handle it the best you can. Even though I've been whining for most of this post, I know that my life is a hell of a lot better than a lot of other people in the world and especially a lot of other people with Hep C. Besides, Spring Training is right around the corner and how can you stay depressed when pitchers and catchers report in only six weeks,

Sierra Vacation One Year Later

At right about the halfway point in treatment last year, I took a short vacation to Camp Mather near Yosemite. It was a real challenge, particularly regarding side effects and was described in this post. Having actually enjoyed it despite the difficulties, my wife and I decided to do it again this year. It was a vastly different experience.

 Right off the bat, we didn’t need to take refrigerated drugs and the daily dose of pills was down to two (a thyroid pill and Celexa). Remembering last year’s difficulty breathing at altitude, I injected my last dose of Procrit a few days before we left. We then threw enough gear for a two month safari into the back of the pickup (it was a five day vacation – in a cabin) and headed up to Camp Mather.

 The biggest difference was the energy I had this year. Even being off the treatment drugs for only 10 weeks created a noticeable difference. There was a lot less exhaustion – I only needed to take one short nap every day – and I had the energy to do a lot more walking. I even played catch, Frisbee golf and kicked around a soccer ball with my wife during the stay. We even stayed up in the evening and played board games with some of our friends, though I crapped out on the late night wine and ranting sessions that are de rigueur for any vacation. It was wonderful to enjoy physical activities without gasping, nausea and spacing out.

 It’s great to feel some actual progress in recovering from treatment. I even pretend to see my hair growing back (I’m sure those dark hairs weren’t there before, both of them). Of course, after driving back to San Francisco, I went to bed and slept for 12 hours, then took an afternoon nap for two more. I guess I’m not quite yet the physical powerhouse I thought I was.

Night Sweats Redux

After finishing 18 months of treatment involving powerful, side-effect laden drugs one’s expectations are that once you are no longer taking the drugs, you no longer experience the side effects. This does not exactly seem to be the case. Shortly after the first week following the end of treatment, I began to experience night sweats again.

Within a few months of beginning the drug trial in 2010, I started to experience night sweats, as related in this post. The night sweats were intense with heavy sweat soaking through sleeping clothes and even requiring changing the sheets in some cases. These went on for several weeks until my body seemed to adjust to the various drugs and they receded to only an occasional event. This was the norm for about a year until they became a bit more common during the final 8 weeks of treatment. They were still not the heavy sweats that characterized the early part of treatment, but they did happend a few times a month toward the end.

About ten days after finishing treatment, I woke up on my back with a pool of sweat on my concave abdomen (did I mention that I had lost a bit of weight?). After a change of shirt and going back to sleep, I awoke later to the same condition. This happened three times during the night and by morning there were damp shirts hung all over the bedroom. It was unclear why it might be happening. My wife had recently had the flu and I was a bit feverish before retiring for the night so perhaps it was related to that. When it happened each night for the next week, it occurred to me that it might be related to the HEP C treatment. The heavy sweats have stopped, but in a milder form they have remained an event that occurs about 3 times a week.

It is not clear what the cause is. In my darkest moments, I remember that the symptoms for the onset of acute HEP C are flu-like, including fever, sweating and muscle aches. I felt some of them at the start of this round of sweats but it does not seem likely the sweating would have continued on for several weeks after the other symptoms disappeared. In talking to folks who have had relapses after treatment, they report that they relapse within the first month, which would fit the scenario, but they do not report having symptoms. It could also be related to stopping the other drugs being taken to alleviate the side effects of the standard treatment. Ambien was something I was taking every day for the final 2-3 months of treatment as sleep was not something that came easily or often. Ambien is not something that should be taken daily and even Dr. Sue had been more worried about the addictive nature of that than of any of the other drugs I was taking. There are some withdrawal symptoms that are noted for Ambien, but they do not indicate that they would go on for weeks after stopping. It could be that the long term use of interferon and Ribavirin has reset my internal thermostat. It always ran cold before as witnessed by the pile of covers on my side of the bed every night. Perhaps now it is more like my wife’s internal temperature gauge. She often sleeps covered only by a sheet on nights when I am swathed in blankets.

I hope it is something as benign as my body permanently running warmer than it used to. If nothing else, surviving summers in San Francisco will be easier if running hot, than if constantly cold. Until more evidence is gathered, the jury is out. In the meantime I am busy brainwashing myself that it is NOT because of any recurrence of HEP C.

Writing Checks My Body Can’t Cash

I was tired all weekend and am tired today. It appears that while the old mind thinks that I can work full-time with no problems, the body is more difficult to convince. There are a number of reasons that contribute to this fact.

The first is that 18 months of interferon and Ribavirin just wear down your body. It is hard to understand just how pervasive that effect is until you try to return to your old activities. The body has to get used to the idea that it can do these things again. It also has to continue to rid itself of the toxins built up over the months of treatment.

Another is that the months of treatment that wore down the body also brought about an enormous lack of energy. This created a situation in which it was extremely difficult to exercise. Walking, stairs, lifting and carrying all leave you so exhausted that you have no incentive to keep attempting to be physically active. So the muscle you have left atrophies and leaves you weak as a kitten.

A third is that recovery from the anemia brought on by the Ribavirin is much slower than expected. A month after finishing treatment and even though I have been injecting Procrit weekly, my hemoglobin is only at a little over 11. Given that it was at 15 at the start of this whole shebang, there is still quite a ways to go to get back to normal.

Finally, as I mentioned a bit earlier, I am genuinely weak as a kitten. A week after I stopped treatment, I began to do some light exercise to try to build up my strength and muscle tone. The amount of various exercises that I could (or more accurately, couldn’t) do was astounding. Just to give the most embarrassing example let’s consider lunges. These are the exercise in which you step forward with one leg, drop the opposite knee down until it touches the ground and then straighten up. I could do 3 on each leg or six total. In all the years I have ever done any of these sorts of exercises it was always possible to do 10 on each side or 20 total even when my condition was terrible. The worst part was that after doing the 6 I could do, my legs were stiff the next day. Yes, I just turned 58 and have had a long bout of drugs but still, that’s damn disappointing.

All this contributes to the fact that 5 full time days equals a full time weekend of rest and even then there is not enough time to revive.

Hungry

At the end of Hepatitis C treatment on June 30, 2011 I weighed 166 lbs. (75 kilos), a loss of 35 lbs. (15.5 kilos) from my weight before the trial started. Granted, my lovely wife had been assiduously packing the weight on to me before the drug trial began so it wasn’t as if I lost only muscle, but still 15% of your body weight is nothing to sneeze at. The great majority of the weight loss, 25 lbs. (11 kilos) came in the first 5 months of the drug trial. It held steady for the first 6 months of standard treatment, then there was another quick 5 lb. drop. It plateaued again for another 4 ½ months and then there was another steady 1lb. per week drop till the end of treatment. It was as if the body dropped weight until the metabolism adjusted to the drugs, then held steady until the drugs broke through the plateau then dropped more weight until another adjustment was made and balance was achieved again.

The first week after I finished treatment was the same as being in treatment. My weight was steady, my appetite was suppressed, my energy very low. After about 10 days, it was as if a switch was thrown in my metabolism. I was hungry constantly. Breakfast in the late morning (I was trying to bring my sleep cycle into line with the rest of the world and not having a great deal of success), then a sandwich an hour later. Some sort of lunch at around 2 p.m. and again something to eat ever hour or so until supper; after supper, more grazing until bedtime. I even woke up hungry in the middle of the night and had to eat an apple or banana so I could get back to sleep. This continued day after day for about 2 weeks. I was astonished at how much I was eating after 18 months of trying to convince myself to eat anything. The only problem was that my diet hadn’t made a change from the on treatment period. My doctor had encouraged me to eat whatever seemed appealing in order to keep my weight up. This meant ice cream, baked goods, cheese etc. The problem now was that these foods were being consumed in large quantities. Two weeks after the eating began, I had gained 7 lbs. (3 kilos). That’s a lot of weight, especially when you look in the mirror and realize it went straight to your abdomen.

Some changes were made to the diet after that realization, cutting down on the ice cream especially and trying to manage the urge to eat. I am down to 3 meals a day without much between meal eating, but am still eating a great deal more at each sitting than during treatment. One month after my metabolism decided it wanted food again, I am 10 lbs. (4.5 kilos) heavier than at the end of treatment. My head likes to believe that the weight gain has begun to change to muscle instead of fat, but convincing my waist of that is a bit harder to do. Still, it is a wonderful thing to enjoy food again. There is nothing like enjoying fresh tomatoes on lettuce and toasted bread, grilled ribs, asparagus and a wonderful ripe peach. This sort of talk is making me hungry again and luckily it is just about time for dinner. So on that note, I will sign off and fulfill my task of gaining more weight. It is a difficult job, but someone has to sit down and do it.

Speed Bump On The Road Back

Just in case I didn’t get the memo that it was going to be a long slow road back to full mental functioning, there was a reminder for me this morning. We had ordered a Chicago-style pizza for dinner last night and, as expected, there were leftover slices after we gorged ourselves. The plan was to take one of these massive wedges of dough and cheese to work for lunch. A good plan: easy, quick and needing minimal effort in the morning to prepare. Things did not quite work out that way.

I got up, did my stretching, drank my green tea (this is California after all) and took out the container with the pizza and set it on the counter. After a quick bathroom break, I returned to the kitchen and realized lunch still needed to be made. After moving aside an annoying plastic container, I laid out bread, cheese, roast beef, tomato and lettuce. Just at the point of finishing the sandwich and putting it into the waxed paper bag, I looked down and saw the pizza sitting right there on the counter were it had lain, forgotten (indeed, even shoved aside) during the process of making the sandwich. It turns out that my brain is just as capable of being distracted and forgetful 4 weeks after finishing treatment as it was during the height of treatment. You could say that there is nothing like the feeling of foolishness that accompanies this sort of brain lock, but I have felt it so many times during the past many months that it has become all too familiar. Here’s hoping that the brain fog starts to burn off in the near future.

The silver lining was that the pizza was just as good for dinner as it would have been for lunch.

The Magic Bullet Theory

Waiting for the “Next Best Thing”


Last Tuesday was the annual Holiday Pot Luck for the twice-monthly Hepatitis C support group that meets in the California Pacific Medical Center Pathology Conference room. There were about two dozen people there and, in the tradition of potluck dinners everywhere, enough food for twice that number. Best of all, there were plenty of desserts.

Of the two dozen people or so people attending, about half were either currently in treatment or had successfully completed treatment; another quarter had undergone treatment and either failed to respond or the virus had reappeared after the completion of treatment and the last quarter had yet to make a decision about treatment. About half the folks who had successfully completed treatment and never had a recurrence of the virus were people with Hepatitis C genotype 2. This genotype has about an 80% chance of clearance, and excellent prospects of a sustained viral response, with 24 weeks of standard interferon and ribavirin treatment.

After people had settled down with their plates of food and glasses of non-alcoholic libations (ginger potions of all sorts were quite popular), everyone reported on their general state of health, how they felt and any significant issues they had that might be caused or intensified by the disease or their treatment status. Several common themes emerged as people told their stories.

The people who had successfully completed treatment reported that by and large they felt they were back to normal functioning (one individual reported that she felt that after 2 years she still did not feel she was back to her previous cognitive function level). They felt their energy had returned, they no longer had shortness of breath, their strength was back and generally they were physically in good condition. Most felt that their mental faculties and their memory had returned to pre-treatment levels as well. To a person, they reported that it took considerably longer to return to full function than the time that is considered standard by the medical establishment. The usually quoted time to recover from the effects of interferon, ribavirin and the other associated drugs used in treatment is 3 to 6 months. Everyone reported that the time it took them to recover from treatment was in the range of 6 months to 1 year with a few reporting longer times than that.

The people currently in treatment (and for that matter, the folks who had completed treatment) reported two side effects as most debilitating: fatigue and brain fog. The fatigue ranged from merely difficult to extreme with no one reporting only mild fatigue. That said, person after person stated that the most irritating and frustrating side effect was the cognitive deficit associated with interferon brain fog. It was not just the increased memory difficulties, it was the inability to concentrate, the ease of distraction, the loss of train of thought that drove everyone crazy. Most folks also reported nausea of varying degrees, insomnia, sweats etc.; but those paled in comparison to the frustration of brain fog and the annoyance of being tired all the time.

The rest of the people at the meeting, the non-responders to treatment and the people yet to attempt treatment, all had the same outlook: they were waiting for the new and better drugs to become available. They had very different reasons for this viewpoint, but it was surprising to see the uniformity of their point of view.

The non-responders and fail-to-sustainers had all failed at the standard interferon and ribavirin treatment. They and their doctors had come to the conclusion that the two drug standard treatment was not going to successfully defeat the virus in their bodies. They need the additional punch of one of the new drugs in order to have a real chance at success. You can’t argue with that conclusion, when what is available has failed, you have to await further developments to move forward.

The people who had not done any treatment had different reasons for waiting for the next new and better drugs. Many were afraid of the side effects but most were looking for a therapy with a better chance of success that the standard therapy. The standard treatment has about an 80% chance of clearing genotype 2 Hepatitis C. It has a 40-45% chance to clear genotype 1 Hepatitis C. The drug most likely to be approved next is Telaprevir, a protease inhibitor (Boceprevir, a similar protease inhibitor is supposedly not far behind). Telaprevir has demonstrated in research testing that, in combination with interferon and ribavirin, it has a genotype 1 clearance rate of about 60-65% (Boceprevir has similar test results). On the surface the reasons for waiting for the new drugs are clear-cut, 60% is a much better chance than 40%. There are a lot of other factors to consider before pinning one’s hopes on the next best thing, however.

First is the discovery of variations in the IL28B gene and how these variations affect response to treatment. If you have the CC variant of the gene, the evidence indicates that your chances of responding well to standard treatment rise to the 60% level, or about the same as the telaprevir response rates. The test to determine which variant you have is available, not extremely expensive and clearly gives information you can use to make a decision about treatment. For a more info the link is here.

Secondly, the new drugs are not assured of either approval or timeliness. The latest Telaprevir application was submitted to the FDA in November, 2010 which means a decision is 6 to 10 months away. Boceprevir has not even reached the “it’s coming in the next x months stage of rumor yet.” There is also the, admittedly small, chance that Telaprevir is never approved. I have many friends who are in the gene-splicing and drug development fields who report a number of instances when companies were extremely confident of FDA approval only to be turned down during the final application. The FDA might come back with concerns that require further testing or additional data submissions, all of which could move the timeline much further out. The promising new polymerase inhibitors (RG7128 and RO5024048 for example) are only just beginning phase II trials which means they are at least 3-5 years away from any sort of approval and only if they succeed in further trials. There are other drugs even further away, etc.

Thirdly, these new drugs are expensive. They project to be about twice as expensive as the current interferon and ribavirin. The plan is that you only need 24 weeks of treatment, but it will be a very expensive 24 weeks. Therefore the question of once the drugs are approved how long it will take for them to be added to insurance company drug formularies so they will be covered by your insurance becomes extremely important. As we all know, insurance companies can be quite recalcitrant about approving new therapies.

Finally, there are all the considerations about your personal situation. What stage is your liver disease? What is your viral load? What is your general health? How old are you? These questions only start to list your issues. What is your financial situation? What is your insurance coverage? What is your work situation? Do you have solid family support? If you have to go on disability, how would that affect your job future? Can you even tell your employer, family, friends and coworkers that you have the disease? All of these and more are considerations that may be more important than the rates of viral response of the various drugs.

Remember two things as think about all the ramifications of when and how to deal with your Hepatitis C: first, there is always a newer, shinier, more promising therapy in the future and second, the best is the enemy of the good.

Personal Evidence of Cognitive Deficits from Hepatitis C Treatment

I am writing this piece having finally managed to tear myself away from the television after watching almost 90 minutes of the Adam Sandler vehicle “You Don’t Mess With The Zohan.” If that is not evidence enough that 46 weeks of treatment have eroded my mental capacities, let me add this nugget: I had to get up, go downstairs, turn the television on and check the listings to remember the name of the movie. Having walked away from the TV not 3 minutes earlier, I could only remember that the movie had the word Zohan in the title but could not recall the complete title.

In the past 6 months of treatment, my critical capacities have deteriorated to the point that I have descended from watching “Celebrity Rehab” through “Jersey Shore” and “Basketball Wives” and now am watching, and more embarrassingly being entertained by, Adam Sandler movies. I have 26 weeks to go in my Hep C chemo regimen, what will I be watching by next June, “Jackass 7, Stupid Geezers in 3D”?

The sad part is that I cannot help myself and neither it seems, can other Hep C chemo veterans. Almost everyone I have talked to about their treatment has admitted that the same thing happened to them. The lucky ones were finally so tired and concentrationally challenged they could not even muster the energy to pay attention to television and just sat staring into space. I suspect that would be preferable to Rob Schneider, Johnny Knoxville, Dane Cook or whatever else might be passing in front of my eyeballs by the end of this.

It is disconcerting to think that this result has a tiny chance of remaining permanent. While I might end up being perfectly happy as a drooling idiot for the rest of my life, I suspect my wife would find that less charming.

But, looking on the bright side, when I finally stop the interferon I can document in painful detail the increase in brain function, the gradual increase in my boredom threshold and the return of my memory. Given that I’ll be approaching 60 by the time I fully recover from all this, I wonder how I will be able to tell if my memory is back or not…

I admit that all of this is anecdotal evidence from a small set of treatment-experienced individuals and does not attain the level of statistical validity, but it is nonetheless disturbing. I’m not sure what would happen if I started to bug my wife to come with me to the latest Adam Sandler classic on opening night.

Memory Deficit Side Effects May Be Permanent

There was a guy I knew years ago who had the talent of entering a conversation about almost any subject with the line, “let me tell you a story about that.” Strangely enough, the story was relevant to the subject an uncanny amount of the time. I don’t have that same talent, but that won’t stop me from starting off with a story.

The day that I got the news that my viral load was undetectable or “negative” in the parlance of the hepatology folks, I wrote an entry about the motivation that gave me to pay special attention to my drug dosing regimen so as to give myself the best chance to succeed at having a sustained viral response at the end of treatment. Motivated though I was, I forgot both my evening Ribavirin dose and my evening injection of interferon on that very day. This was not disastrous as I had already taken 600 mg of ribavirin in the morning and I was able to give myself the interferon the following day. Nonetheless, it shows the power that interferon brain fog has to confuse even in the face of sincere dedication.

The following week I had my regular appointment with my hepatologist Dr. Bzowej. We discussed my test results, my general state of health and how I was reacting to the medications I was taking. I went over the various physical reactions I was having to the drugs and how those reactions had changed over time. She then quizzed me about my mental state. I told her that my memory had deteriorated quite a bit over the course of treatment and that my ability to concentrate and solve problems had also taken a hit. These are expected side effects of the interferon and ribavirin drug combination, but Dr. Bzowej had some new information about them that is quite disturbing.

The memory and cognitive deficits that Hep C treatment inflicts on those who are undertaking it have been believed to be temporary. When the patient stops taking the drugs, those side effects gradually disappeared and the patient returned to the same mental acuity they had before treatment began. This is apparently not always the case. Dr. Bzowej related that in the past year, she has had two patients whose symptoms have not improved. Their memory and concentration problems have remained over a year after no longer taking interferon and ribavirin. She is concerned enough that she referred me to a neuro-psychology specialist for a set of tests to determine my current memory and cognitive abilities. She will then have me tested in anther 3 months to check whether there has been further deterioration and if so, what course of action we should take.

This scares the crap out of me. The one thing I have always been able to rely on is my brain. I have neither dazzling good looks nor great athletic ability or physical strength. I have some amount of personal charm, but certainly not enough to depend on for a living. Nor do I have vast amounts of physical or moral courage. What I do have is a good brain. I have intelligence, creativity, the ability to learn new skills relatively quickly and the ability to solve problems. This has always been the rock I could depend on, and if it crumbles, I don’t know where it leaves me. A pile of sand on the beach maybe; certainly it changes who I am and what I can do.

The same applies to anyone else considering entering treatment. Talk to your hepatologist about this issue. Ask if it is possible to be tested for memory and cognitive function before treatment begins to establish a baseline for future reference. While in treatment keep your doctor informed of the symptoms of memory and concentration loss. You have to decide if being cleared of the Hep C virus is worth the small possibility of permanent brain function damage.

I’m still glad I entered the study and am now in standard treatment, but I don’t want the price to be permanent memory disability no matter how small the chances of that happening.

Managing The Serotonin Complex

My previous post discussed the problems I have been having because I am taking Celexa, Trazadone and Tramadol to manage side effects of my chemotherapy. I had a scheduled appointment with my hepatologist this past Friday and decided to bring these issues up at the meeting.

That plan was derailed from the start. When I got to the doctor’s office, my appointment had been cancelled. It was irritating as hell, but they did immediately contact my nurse practitioner Alex who called in the overall Hep C treatment nurse Tammy for a three-way consult. I explained my symptoms and my worries about serotonin overload. Tammy agreed with me that my symptoms could be some level of serotonin syndrome and she and Alex both said I should stop the Tramadol. I told them that the only effective means I had of dealing with the muscle pain I get each injection cycle was to take 800 mg of Ibuprofen every 4 hours. I said it worked fine, but that I had been told it was bad for my kidneys. They agreed but said that in the hepatology department they do not prescribe any opiate-based painkillers. I would have to talk to my primary care doctor in order to get anything prescribed. This sets me up for a great meeting with Dr. K to engage in some classic drug-seeking behavior. I need that stress like I need another hemorrhoid.

I also told them I wanted to change from Trazadone to something else for sleep. They were both resistant to that suggestion. Apparently Trazadone is prescribed along with Celexa and other antidepressants fairly commonly and without problems. I explained that my nervous system is sensitive to drugs and perhaps we should cut back to only one serotonin reuptake inhibitor. They told me that we should eliminate one at a time. Not a bad idea, but then they don’t feel as jumpy as I do.

That was five days ago and it has been a nasty five days indeed. I decided to stop the trazadone as well as the tramadol to try to get my serotonin levels done more quickly. The first 3 days were especially rough at night. My legs were so twitchy that I had to keep getting out of bed to walk around and tire them out. When I got back to be, I had a ten minute window to fall asleep before the twitching would start again and I would have to start pacing, It was a great deal like the symptoms described in this post, but they lasted longer and were more intense. I managed to get about four hours of sleep a night.

The past few days have been better. I have less general jumpiness, irritability and nervousness during the day. The nights are still difficult, but I have been able to get five to six hours of sleep. I am going to try some over-the-counter sleep stuff of some kind if this goes on much longer.

I think I made the right choice to get off the tramadol and the trazadone, but I certainly wish I had a better idea of how long it’s going to take for my body to settle down a bit. I have dealt with restless leg syndrome all my life, but if this goes on much longer I’ll need stronger drugs than celexa to keep me sane…

Minding Your Drug Interactions

Among the disadvantages of being in a drug research study is the tendency for discontinuity in your medical care. The RO5024048 Roche study that I participated in was run by Dr. Natalie Bzowej. It was administered by the Hepatology Center at California Pacific Medical Centers (CPMC). CPMC is a first rate institution and they do cutting edge Hepatitis C research. The doctors are excellent, but as is true with specialists everywhere, they are busy people with many patients. When I screened for the study, I was examined by Dr. Frederick. For early symptoms of rash, sweats etc, I was examined by Dr. Merriman. When I had difficulty with pain issues I was examined by Dr. Bonacini and prescribed Tramadol. Later, when I was having trouble with sleep, I was examined by Dr. Frederick and prescribed Trazadone. When depression issues cropped up, I was examined by Dr. Bzowej and prescribed Paxil. and added Ativan for use as needed. After I reported difficulties with the Paxil, I was seen by Dr. Frederick again and he changed the antidepressant to Celexa Finally, my thyroid function was affected by the research meds and I was put on Levothyroxine by my primary care doctor.

Over time, this can add up to a significant number of medications creating their own set of interactions with each other that have to be carefully attended to. This is something that you should not be leaving solely to the doctors treating you. All the doctors in the hepatology center work on the same team. They are all involved in doing research and, to the limits imposed by patient and study confidentiality restrictions, they communicate with each other and share patient information. However, each doctor has preferred medications they are familiar with and prescribe regularly. This creates a situation in which each doctor is thoroughly familiar with certain meds and they may not be conversant in the effects and interactions of meds preferred and prescribed by the other doctors. You have to do your own research on the drugs you are taking and the potential interactions between them all. I found the drug interaction database at drugs.com to be particularly helpful. If you find something, contact your doctor and get their response. If you feel you need to change drugs, tell them. Keep at it until you get answers that satisfy you.

In my case, I was prescribed tramadol, trazadone and celexa. All have the effect of inhibiting serotonin reuptake in the brain. While this is a good thing for combating depression, if it results in an overabundance of serotonin in the brain, it can cause serious problems: irritability, confusion, tremor, stronger reflex reactions, sweats and potentially even seizures. I do not think these would have been prescribed together if all my symptoms had manifested at the same time. But as each was prescribed for a symptom that was occurring at separate times in the study, I ended up taking them all. There are days when I have to take all three and it is on those days that I have been noticing an increase in my some of my symptoms.

I have increased irritability, a general increase in physical tension and in activities like rubbing my hands, pacing, grinding my teeth, etc. This is all symptomatic of serotonin syndrome which I thought I experienced a few months ago. I am seeing both my primary care doctor and my hepatologist this week and will bring this all up with them both. I would like to see another painkiller substituted for the tramadol and perhaps another sleep aid substituted for the trazadone. I am not sure which way the doctors will want to go but I am tired of feeling this way and need a change.

Less Anger, More Irritation

Today was more placid than the past several days. The book sale was over save for the cleanup. We made more money than we projected we would. Even though not nearly enough people showed up to help with the load out, it still managed to get done without driving any of us to total exhaustion. Close, but not quite all the way there.

The inner dialogue today was primarily one of irritation and disgust instead of rage and fury. That is a big win from my perspective. Even though none of the dialogue ever reaches spoken form to be judged by others hearing it, it still makes me feel better that, were it to slip out, it would not sound quite so insane as it would have this past weekend.

I still set up an appointment with the difficult Dr. K, my primary care guy to sort out the thyroid situation, as it could not hurt to know the score on those meds. He can check assorted plumbing as well so we will all know just how things look from the bottom up.

Still keeping the knives sequestered and the ammo separated from the firearms by stairs, but the trigger finger is much less itchy today…

Anger Management Revisited

I have noticed that anger management issues are cropping up once again as my chemotherapy drags on. In an earlier post, I talked about the first bout of it I had several weeks into the RO5024048 study. It’s coming back again, though with a decidedly different twist. I am not having problems dealing directly with irritating people, but I am having extended arguments with them in my head. I think this could be attributed to one of two side effects or a third cause that is due my current circumstances.

The first would be depression. I am on Celexa and do not feel that I am depressed. I remember what I felt like before I started on the antidepressants and this doesn’t feel like that. I am a bit tenser than I have been and I have a theory about that I am going to check out this week. I noticed that once I started on levothyroxine for my low thyroid function, I became more jittery than I had been before. There was a bit of an adjustment period when I started on antidepressants but that had leveled out a bit by the time I started on the thyroid meds. I then noticed a definite step up in nervousness when I started taking the thyroid meds. I wonder if my thyroid is working better now and my dose is too high and whether the thyroid meds might be interacting with the antidepressants to make me a bit too edgy. I am calling my primary care doctor tomorrow to set up an appointment to test my thyroid hormone levels and perhaps adjust my dose.

The second possibility is the mental problems that can be caused by interferon and ribavirin themselves. It is a known side effect of this combination of drugs that can include irritability, depression, aggressive behavior, suicidal behavior and suicidal or homicidal thoughts. I have not been thinking about killing myself or anyone else. I have indeed thought about letting a few individuals know what I really think about their attitude and behavior and doing it in no uncertain terms. I have imagined these (admittedly one-sided) conversations in vivid detail. I have not, however, actually done any of this and I have not noticed that my behavior towards others has become more aggressive. I am trying to keep a close watch on this and am going to wait for the results of the thyroid tests and any dose adjustments before I address the issue of whether my antidepressants need to be adjusted.

I do note that my behavior has become more decisive, but no one has mentioned that I have been abusive or angry toward them, and I have been asking for feedback if that happens. I find that in situations start to degenerate into indecisive dithering, I am becoming more apt to step in and tell people what to do. This does not seem to me to fall under aggressive behavior in the way they mean in the side effects description, but I am definitely wary of my reactions and behavior.

The third possibility is that some of this is the result of a long hard seven days of dealing with our organization’s biggest event of the year. I have been working longer hours than usual, in more crowded and chaotic circumstances than usual, doing more stressful work than usual. There is nothing like dealing with the sort of obsessive, picky and occasionally barking mad people that populate a used book sale to drive stress levels to the stratosphere. I don’t believe it is entirely due to this circumstance that I am noticing my inner dialogue moving more to “that stupid little prick” sorts of expressions than usual, but it must have something to do with it.

So until I get to see all my doctors about my meds, the knives stay in the drawers and the guns and ammunition on separate floors of the house…

Brain Fog x Fatigue = Say What?

The longer one takes interferon, the more significant the cognitive and memory deficits become. It’s a gradual process whose creeping nature means that you some definite “oh crap,” moments can pop up and catch you unawares. The farther into a task you go in any one day, the more like you are to be hit with a OC moment.

The organization I work for puts on a big used book sale every year. Picture a large airplane hanger with 550 banquet tables and 400,000 books open for sale for 5 days to a total of 12,000 customers. This requires some high level organization to pull off successfully, which is why the people who know us are annually astonished that we can do it.

It also means an early start the first day to make sure the logistics are all mapped out (literally) before the army of volunteers and the truckloads of tables and books start to arrive. I was there at 6:30 a.m. to mark out the floor of the hangar for table and book placement. This involves chalk, long tape measures and lots of walking; as in 20 trips up and down the 600 foot building and lots of side-to-side walking, and conferences, and rechecking, etc. By about 10:00 a.m, my dogs were barking and my brain was fogging. I noticed that I was having trouble reading my map and making calculations on my tape measure. I had to mark a 48-foot length of tables on the floor and I was standing at the 59 foot mark on my tape measure. I could not for the life of my figure out that 59 plus 48 equals 107 feet. I made enough wrong marks on the floor (which I did a bad job of scuffing out) that the volunteers had to track me down and make me show them where the damn tables were supposed to go. Suddenly, I just couldn’t think clearly. Taking a break helped a bit as did water, a snack and periodic rests, but once the brain fog started, the rest of the day was not a good one for our hero.

Twelve hours of sleep helped, but another long day the next day meant that I needed another ten hours of sleep today, a three hour nap in the afternoon and restricting myself to menial tasks around the house. Ten hours more tonight and I should be ready to exhaust myself again tomorrow.

Of course I will be most aware of my situation and be extra careful to rest adequately and not overextend myself in stressful situations, of course…

Vacation In The Sierras

Vacationing while on chemotherapy for Hep C has a number of factors to take into consideration even for a short jaunt to the seaside. Adding a few days and several thousand feet of altitude to your relaxing getaway and a whole new set of issues get added to the mix. It is not really that difficult to arrange, but you can count on being sideswiped by an unknown effect or two graciously provided by your medical situation.

I just spent 5 days at Camp Mather in the Sierras of California. Camp Mather is a piece of property owned by the City of San Francisco that is located between Yosemite and Hetch-Hetchy Valley. It was acquired in the early twentieth century through a combination of political hardball, backroom dealing, convenient crafting of legal provisions, and the judicious application of money. It has about 75 cabins, a small lake, a pool, trails, stands of ponderosa pine and incense cedar, tent camping sites, bathhouses and a mess hall. Each cabin has a couple of beds, two plastic chairs, lights and a picnic table. It’s not tent camping, but is rustic enough to be only a step up. It is also at 4500 feet above sea level.

The specifics of the Hep C planning required bringing all three injectable drugs along in a cooler as my dosing schedule occurred during the vacation. I brought along a fully loaded daily drug-dosing carrier that had all my daily meds broken down into morning and evening doses. I also brought the ancillary drugs along in case I couldn’t sleep, became anxious or the pain in my muscles flared up.

The drug dosing all went swimmingly, but the thin air really did me in. The simple act of unloading our stuff out of the car and into the cabin and setting it up, let me gasping and exhausted. Nothing a quick nap didn’t fix, but it certainly caught me off guard. A bit of clear thinking on my part could have predicted this, but hey…
A trip to Glacier Point in Yosemite (one of the most spectacular views of granite domes and glacial valleys that exists in the USA), which is at the 7200-foot level, was even more daunting. As I walked up the slope to the overlook I was constantly being passed by fit, trim, healthy people in their 60s, 70s, and even tough old birds in their 80s. You nod cheerfully, gasp out a hello and plod along.

The thin air also makes keeping properly hydrated something you have to pay particular attention to. You have to drink water constantly to maintain your normal hydration level and stave off nausea and queasiness. Combine this with my walnut sized bladder and enlarged prostate and it’s not a pretty picture. For surviving the nights I have two words: gallon jug.

The third factor is really a combination of the first two. The thin air and tendency towards dehydration leave you even more susceptible to fatigue than usual. Don’t plan on cramming too much activity into your day or you will spend the next day doing nothing but sleeping.

This is not to say I did not have a good time. It was a delightful long weekend. We got together with old friends, met interesting new people, saw places we had never seen before, revisited old favorites and simply lounged around. Even the food was good. I will stand in a cafeteria line any time for turkey dinner, tri-tip steak or spaghetti with meat sauce. The staff and volunteers who keep the place going are great folks.

So by all means head out the mountains whether you are on chemo or not. Just prepare to be surprised by how you body reacts to your brain’s idea of a good time.

It Is Chemotherapy; It Is Not “Treatment.”

The statistics speak for themselves. Over 4,000,000 people are credibly estimated to have Hepatitis C in the USA. The research money devoted to finding a cure for Hepatitis C is about $20 per infected individual. As a counter example, about 500,000 people have HIV/Aids in the USA. The research money devoted to finding a cure for Aids is $2700 per infected individual. You do the math, research money in the USA for Aids: $1,350,000,000; research money in the USA for Hepatitis C: $80,000,000; fourteen times the money for ¼ the total number of patients.

I do not begrudge the money granted to research on AIDS. I do not begrudge the money granted to research cancer or heart disease or tuberculosis or any other life-threatening disease. All these diseases merit serious study. I am interested in why Hep C is so underrepresented in the research funding arena. A few thoughts have been knocking around my head concerning that area.

The closest disease example I can think of to Hep C is HIV. Both groups of people infected by the particular disease are stigmatized to one extent or another. The AIDS community was painted from the very beginning as promiscuous, drug using homosexuals – hard to beat that for a stigma in American society. Hep C has been characterized as a disease of drug users and needle sharers, another big no-no in the USA. Yet after about 3 or 4 years the AIDS community was well organized, aggressive, public and effective in lobbying the drug companies and the FDA. It took a long time and a lot of hard work, but they got a lot of attention, a lot of money and some effective treatments leading to a high rate of long-term survivors. One of the reasons that they were effective was that they were a unified, identifiable community, stigmatized or no, that was able to leverage their movement for gay rights onto the movement for HIV research and treatment. The out of the closet gay community led the way in publicizing the disease and the need for research.

Individuals infected with Hep C are spread across wider segments of society. They are present in larger numbers across various sexual, gender and racial segments of society and a lot of them are still in the closet, as it were, regarding their disease. While there are advocacy groups, support groups, web sites, etc. There is not a tight, vocal, aggressive group lobbying loud and hard for additional funding. We need to have an out of the closet group of Hep C infected being in your face about the situation regarding research and treatment.

Another problem we have is that Hepatitis C patients undergo “treatment” or enter “standard of care” or are in a “study” or are utilizing “alternative therapies.” We need to call a spade a spade here. Hepatitis C is fought using chemotherapy, not “treatment.” Calling it what it truly is magnifies the significance of what people with Hep C are going through. Everyone knows someone who has undergone chemotherapy for breast cancer or colon cancer or leukemia or prostate cancer and they all understand how serious and invasive it is. By referring to Hep C treatment as treatment or Standard of Care or therapy diminishes the seriousness of the disease itself and the regimen used for attacking the virus. We need to stop minimizing it. What we go through is not treatment; it is hard-core chemotherapy with all the attendant problems and side effects.

To use myself as an example once again, I am 9 months into chemotherapy for Hepatitis C. I inject 3 drugs on a weekly basis: Pegasys, Procrit and Neupogen. I take four additional drugs on a daily basis: Ribavirin, Celexa, Levothyroxine and Folic Acid. I take three additional drugs on an as needed basis: Trazadone, Tramadol and Ativan. I am using 10 different drugs to attack the Hep C virus and to manage the side effects of the drugs that are attacking it. If that does not qualify as chemotherapy, what the hell does?

I have side effects ranging from nausea, fatigue, hair loss, muscle pain, joint pain, fevers, rashes, night sweats, low white blood counts, anemia and brain fog (because of the brain fog, I’m sure I have forgotten some of the side effects). If that array of side effects does not indicate I am undergoing chemotherapy, again, what the hell does?

It is time to call what we endure to fight the Hepatitis C virus what it is: Chemotherapy. It is invasive, disruptive and long lasting. In fact Hep C chemo generally lasts for 48 weeks. That is considerably longer than the chemo and radiation regimens for a number of cancers and other diseases. This is a serious process.

Our disease is serious and ultimately fatal, our method of attacking it is a long course of difficult chemotherapy. It does neither our disease, our treatment or ourselves as patients any favors to be less than open about the seriousness of our disease and the long, difficult and exhausting regimen of chemotherapy we undergo to fight it. Let’s do ourselves the justice of calling it what it is.

Thanks for listening to the rant. I am on vacation for the next week and will have more bile when I return...

Careful Planning Meets Chaos Theory

When Chaos Theory first became widely discussed years ago, there was a quick and dirty example of it that made the rounds: Chaos Theory can be illustrated as your typical day. You wake up in the morning with a certain plan or pattern for your day. You have places to be and tasks that need to be accomplished and you think that they can all fit into your day. Then your day happens.

As you get dressed, your shoelace breaks and you realize you don’t have any spares. You unthread one from another pair of shoes and go to make breakfast. You find that someone has used the last of the ground coffee and you have to grind some. There is no orange juice for your smoothie, so you have to hustle up some English muffins for breakfast. You find that the deli meat and tomato you were going to use for your lunch sandwich are gone and that means you have to buy something for lunch. All this combines to get you out the door a touch late and there is a bus stall on your way to work. You are late to work and that pushes back your first meeting. The meeting runs long. There is not enough time to complete the spreadsheet work you were going to do before you need to check in with the contractor working on the office. Lunch gets pushed back and you have to take additional time to go out and get food. All this shortens your afternoon and you absolutely have to be at little league practice (you’re the coach) or 16 kids will be standing around. Etc, Etc, Etc. By the end of the day, the resemblance to your morning plan may be only a passing one.

The same thing occurs when you attempt to plan your activities around your treatment regimen. Chaos has the same domino-like effect. It ambushed me just two days ago.

I had a fairly heavy day at work, packing and moving many boxes of books, rearranging inventory and working through floor plans for a 400,000-book sale. I felt all right when I got home, but I realized I had pushed it and decided to stay home instead of making a run to my studio. I knew that my wife worked late the next day and I could handle what I needed to do tomorrow evening. At 1:30 a.m. that night however, tired as I was, I was wide awake. I had to get some sleep and broke down and took a Trazadone. I took about an hour to work, so I managed to get 4 hours of sleep and woke up with a logy feeling from the sleeping pill. By the time I got home after work, I went right to bed and slept for 3 hours. I was still tired enough that I went to bed early and slept for 8 hours (as treatment veterans know, 8 hours sleep can be a miracle). I did not even manage to get much done at work much less do any of the small tasks I had hoped to accomplish in the evening. The lack of accomplishment that day affected the next and it is only now that I can plan to get what I wanted to do yesterday done tomorrow evening, if all goes well.

Planning is good, lists are good, notes to yourself to remember that you forget are good, but the best-laid plans can definitely be put paid by a bout of treatment-derived chaos…

Fatigue Vs. Normal Life

One of the situations that develop after an extended period of Hepatitis C treatment is the onset of a pervasive fatigue. It is not that you feel tired all the time, it is that your ability to bounce back after exertion becomes much more problematic. This reduced level of recuperation can also extend for several days after the event that brings it on. If you combine that effect with the fact that brain fog makes you forget you have this recovery deficit, it creates for some bouts of exhaustion that can take you completely by surprise.

This sort of fatigue is one of the most widely reported effects of long-term treatment on interferon. The drug seems to eventually saturate your cells at some level and large numbers of patients report effects ranging from extra tiredness at the end of the day, to barely being able to get themselves out of bed without exhaustion.

Several recent examples in my own case come to mind as illustrations of this effect. A few weeks ago I took a week vacation from work. I did not travel anywhere as my wife was working during my time off. I caught up on my sleep, my reading and did one project around the house that had been on my mind for about 10 years. (This is the nature of home ownership, after you do you initial renovations – in our case very extensive – you tend to let the small items slide until you just can’t stand it anymore). Our house has lath and plaster walls that are cracked in several areas and I made it my project to fix cracks in the entryway and stairwell. The first day took about 7 hours of scraping, filling vacuuming and cleaning. I was tired the next day, but it didn’t seem bad. It took about 4 hours that day to finish up and after cleaning and replacing rugs, etc. I felt good about getting the job done, finally. The following day I slept till noon, woke up tired, lasted till about 2 p.m., slept till 5 p.m., was able to stay up and visit with my wife and then was in bed at 10 p.m. and slept till 10 a.m. I was exhausted from the two days of physical activity that had gone before.

A few days after that I went to the baseball game referenced in this post. It was a long game, in mid-week and I followed it up by working the next day. The day after that, I again slept till noon, did a bit of reading and went to bed early in the evening. The mere fact of dropping a 10-hour day (which was primarily recreation) into the middle of the work week flattened me.

The final example occurred last week when I work five straight days instead of my usual four. This didn’t seem like a big deal to me and indeed on off day of Friday, I did not feel terribly tired. Saturday I went to a reunion of a group of folks I have know for over 20 years who used to take long weekends together in the California gold country. It was a relaxing day of eating, talking and sitting around on the deck. The addition of these 5 or 6 hours of excitement and attention to the extra-long work week left me out on my feet the next day. I found myself dozing off reading the paper; riding in the car and just about any time I sat down to take a break from our not-very-strenuous walk.

In each of these cases, I had completely forgotten the previous bout of exhaustion by the time the next one came on. If I had enough energy to remember the fatigue or enough memory to remember the lack of energy, it would make planning my exertions go much smoother…

Normal Life vs. The Brain Fog

The single most difficult aspect of Hepatitis C as a disease and of the treatment for Hep C is the combination of memory loss, concentration loss and cognitive loss known as brain fog. Hep C sufferers consistently comment that it is the most troubling and hard to handle aspect of the disease. Hep C itself has a side effect in many of its victims of varying forms of memory and thinking difficulties and when you combine the effects of the Hep C virus with the side effects of taking interferon you get the syndrome they call interferon brain fog. It affects all aspects of your life to one degree or another.

It goes beyond merely forgetting where your keys are or what the name of a movie you saw in the past is. It extends to trying to remember what you walked into the room to do, what it is you were trying to say a moment ago, what you were going to make absolutely sure you got done today or even what you sat down to write about. Perhaps the most troubling aspect of brain fog is that it can actually make you forget the fact you have brain fog, a classic lose-lose situation.

You forget that you have noticed very particular situations that you made note of in the past with an eye towards either avoiding in the future or not entering in to without a plan to make the situation go as smoothly as possible. You find yourself unable to concentrate even though you know you are in a situation that absolutely requires that you pay attention. You discover that you cannot think through and solve the type of problem that you have been able to handle in the past. It drives you to distraction and, unfortunately, you are already there.

This past week my wife and I went to the Roots of Impressionism exhibition at the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco. In the preparations to go to the show, it completely slipped my mind that since the beginning of my treatment crowd situations make me anxious and irritable. The show was only moderately crowded but shortly after entering the galleries, I realized two things: I was starting to get really jumpy and I had forgotten to bring along my Ativan which does a very good job of calming me down in those situations. By the time we finished our tour of the exhibition I was edgy enough that when some friends we had happened upon at the show suggested going to the café for a chat, I had to decline and head home to calm down.

As an aside, I think that the person who invented the audio tour for art exhibitions should be tarred and feathered. Bad enough in the normal sort of exhibition that you have to navigate around the clumps of people reading the labels and the explanatory posters, but at least their ebbs and flows are predictable. The people walking around with audio headsets on are a nightmare. They stop and start erratically. They make sudden turns and movements and they are completely unaware of the people around them. It is the same sort of behavior as automobile drivers on cell phones and just as much of a pain in the ass.

Returning to our previously scheduled disquisition…

Two days after the jaunt to the museum, a friend who had an extra ticket invited me to a Giants baseball game. I laid out a checklist for the game that included sunscreen and a long sleeve shirt to counteract the extra sensitivity to sunlight caused by interferon; several bottles of water, some fruit, and an extra T-shirt in case the fog came in and dropped the temperature 20 degrees. I forgot entirely that baseball games draw large crowds, especially on beautiful summer afternoons. The mere act of getting through the crowd to get to my, excellent, seat already had me twitching. I had once again forgotten to bring the Ativan that allows me to handle crowds more easily. The only thing that saved the day was that the people immediately on either side of our seats decided not to attend that day and there was enough extra personal space to let me relax. It was a great game, even though the Giants lost, but it could have been a really tough day.

You would think that the dodgy experience I had at the museum only 48 hours earlier would have left an indelible mark, but even that could not penetrate the fog…