My rational brain has looked at the odds and decided to be proactive and not worry about the far future. I’m not sure my body got the memo. I have had two or three events of gastric distress around finding out the results of the PET scan.
Soon after that meeting, I came back to see Christene and her team. Someone gave me another cognitive exam. They might consider changing that one up. I’ve taken this exam so many times now that I feel like I could administer it myself.
I gave more blood. This time they are looking at DNA/RNA to see if there is something there that makes the meds work better. Wouldn’t that be nice.
They also gave me the medicine. They had to explain the bottle because it is rigged to tell them if I have been taking the meds or not. We had a long discussion about getting through the TSA line at the airport.
I took the first pill while they watched. Remember, nobody in that room knew whether I got the pill or the placebo. The only person who knows is some guy locked away in the high castle somewhere who keeps tabs on all the rest of us. Probably more people have access to that information but, from where I stand, it feels more like the weird genius in the locked lab.
So I don’t know what I just swallowed. I felt a bit of anxiety about that. I’m trusting a lot of people here to be smart about my brain. About fifteen minutes later, I had a flash of vertigo. I felt fuzzy for the rest of the day and all the next day. It could be anxiety over a placebo. It could be the real deal drug.
Now I just feel normal. I would like to think that my mind is clearer but I don’t think It works that way.
So did I get the drug? Do I want to get the drug? What if the drug actually causes damage? If this last turns out to be the case, sitting on the sidelines hugging my little placebo would be great.
Here’s the way I see it. The women in my family are cursed with Alzheimer’s and so are a lot of other people. It feels kind of good to be doing my small part to fix this, even if it is a little risky.
All told, I’m not afraid really yet I’m a little freaked out that I have qualified for the clinical trial. I was probably a little freaked out before all this info fell into my lap. All I had to do was look at my mother, my aunts, my grandmother and calculate the odds.
I don’t know, calm or freaked—a little of both. If I wake up screaming some morning, I’ll let you know.