Last week I had an appointment with a new neurologist.
After my last visit to the neurologist I was seeing, I felt trapped in a hopeless situation.
The approach of ‘lose more weight and see me again in three months’ seemed reasonable when I was first diagnosed.
However, after two years and 28 kilos lost, I felt it was time to seek a second opinion.
And I’m so relieved that I did.
After a full health history and lengthy eye check happened, a caring and in-depth explanation was given regarding where we’re at with my IIH.
I listened carefully, waiting for the plan of attack to be introduced.
And in a calm and quiet manner, the following words were said –
“There is no need for you to be on so much Diamox. My recommendation would be that you stop taking it. You don’t need it anymore.”
Outfit photo snapped just before leaving for the neurologist appointment. I think those newly purchased jeans from Katie’s might be known as my lucky jeans from now on. Find them
Style tip: If you love a true skinny jean look, size down – I’m wearing size 10 (usually a 12) | Shirred Sleeves Tee is from Seed, size S | shoes are from airflex shoes (last season)
I asked questions and so did Scott. He came with me to this appointment and was very quiet throughout the whole thing.
Until those words were said.
Those words were a big deal. We’ve been waiting two years to hear them and to be honest, I still don’t think they’ve sunk in.
But then Scott asked, “Is there a specific way to stop taking Diamox? Kirsten is such a rule follower. She likes to know exactly how something should be done.”
Which made me laugh, because it’s true.
I AM a rule follower.
I’ve followed every single medical instruction given to me in the last two years without question.
I’ve kept all of the notes and instructions from the various medical specialists I’ve seen. There’s so many of them, they now fill two lever arch folders – colour coordinated of course 😉
And while I’m reluctant to write the following words, because this IIH thing can flare up at any time, for now, I’ve done it.
I’ve knocked this hideous condition into remission.
I can start to come off the medication. It’s a lengthy process to get off it altogether, but that’s ok.
Slow and steady wins the race has always been my motto.
I still can’t believe I’m about to cross the finish line.
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