CaMama and Erin, What a nightmare today, symptons same as you've described, Erin. This is the worst day I've had since my odyssey began with p/a, spondylitis, tendinitis, and I don't remember the other form of arthrits I have (What's the difference!). CaMama, you're right about the Levaquin. I have always stood up to any medication. I even woke up during a procedure in the hospital a few years ago. The anesthesiologist yelled at me--that she'd given me all she could! I didn't have the presence of mind to say," Okay, then what's the plan, now?" But the Levaquin, made me sick since day 1. My urologist is away and I asked the rheumy to step in last night and he said he couldn't, not his field. I won't stay long right now; five minutes ago I became terribly nauseous, dizzy, headachey. I went out to work today, but--and I'd like to cry about this, like a darn baby--I found a seat and sat down as if I were ninety. Woke up nervous, nightmares, as usual. Went to bathroom twice to urinate--and I never, ever had to, before this prostrate infection. My back pain is unbearable and my shins and thigh bones ache from the inside out. Knees are bad. A little while ago the pain reversed its course: rather than traveling from the back down to my toes, I felt the pain start in my ankles and travel up to my back. Never knew such a thing. I have also, and have had all day, stabbing pains on both sides of my back, where the kidneys are, and up under the wing-like are of my upper back. Right elbow, where cartilage has withdrawn from, is aching, throbbing, the problem fingers on my right hand are bad. Elbows ache--you name it and it hurts today. I am so despondent. Had plans to work, read, start a poem, write to my daughter in a beautiful card I bought yesterday: poof. You may be right about the Levaquin, CaMama, though I've had many pain areas and terrible fatigue before the Levaquin. When I called the rheumy last week and told him how bottomless was my fall into fatique and nothingness, he was clinical, and said that of course I feel that way, with the arthritis and the prostrate infections running through my body. That was it. Waiting for the Enbrel. You all speak so highly of it, but I am run down. I was on antibiotics eight times last winter, strepp throat, sinus infection that hung on like a bum relative I let in the door, and other respiratory infections. CaMama, I can take time from work. I took two months four years ago when I blew my mind by quitting drugs that were too strong for me and going cold-turkey. Until I started drinking three to four quarts of water a day, I was getting a kidney stone every year for five years. Used a lot of time. In one of those episodes, I was treated by a butcher--a nightmare story for another day--and I developed a kidney infection. The pain was huge. He kept throwing demerol at me. I was hallucinating every time I blinked. Really! Saw my dead uncle several times, the one I feared was the specter of my future when I was a boy and my father died, the uncle who was led by alcoholism to a home on a bench under the El in my neighborhood. Where did all this come from? Doctors morph into persons we can never be. My rheumy and psychiatrist, for instance, they are compassionate men, but I see that every time they start feeling my pain they withdraw into a sort of clinical coma for a while. They have to. They have to survive our ordeals in order to treat us and other patients with logic and clear sight, and they have to, would like to, go home and have a life of their own. Anyway, CaMama, two reasons why I haven't stayed home for a lenght of time, though my intuition and my body are screaming that I'm heading for a fall and will have to stay home. I know I should listen to what I just wrote, because it is how I feel. But when I tried to take time, my rheumy said to save my sick time, that I will need it later. (That statement has made me very sceptical about the Enbril. Also, there's so much profit in the drug that Walgreens pharmacy and the pharmaceutical company have created a program. In fact, I received a call today, second one. Every month a rep from Walgreens is to call me to see how I'm doing with Enbril. The program will take care of any problems that might arise: dealing with my medical insurance company, if it balks at refills, for instance; making sure my supply is fressh; I have access to a nurse and pharmacist whenever I have questions or problems; and I received a kit--it upset me--a soft cooler for traveling purpose, to keep the enbril cold; a needle disposal jug, and God knows what else. I haven't wanted to look further. Anyway, when Walgreens first called, their pharmacist told me what a miracle Enbrel has been for her; yet, she said that every time she gets a cold, she goes off the Enbrel and on antibiotics.) Sorry for that long passage....The other reason I am reluctant to take off is that my supervisor and the director of my division retired two years ago. They respected me and treated me well, because I was their best worker for over twenty years. I am a type A. But, now, I am supervised by imbeciles. Just rotten luck that I am under them--who are ignorant, greedy, scared, jealous individuals. I won't go on, or you might think that I am unfair. But everyone knows their type. Foolishly, they are treating me with derision and/or they are ignoring me--although, they're actions at work can get them into trouble. However, I'm a city boy, and city boys never snitch. CaMama, I grew up in poverty and abused. The "mean streets" were safer than home. I don't care how much therapy or medication one is on, there are just certain fears and reactions that a man or woman cannot change. I have to keep moving--like a character on an old TWILIGHT ZONE episode: He knew if he fell asleep he would die. Well, guess what? I am a loner and an individualist. But that is not to say that I am not sociable or a good person. I help everyone I can, and I get calls from the blue every once in a while from former students, for instance, who are checking in with me. And because my part-time college teaching position allows me to get new, expensive books from publishers, I have given out hundreds and hundreds of dollars worth to the underpriviledged at work, whom I help with their letters, applications for promotions, classes, etc. As I've said in another post, many friends are too wounded to help me, or I've let some go because of professional jealousy in the very competitive publishing field--I won't run with a group that is out to hurt another group, that sort of thing. I won't be deceptive in order to win favor, you know. So I love a lot, and there is a lot of love out there for me, but it's not love that visits or calls. And I am very sad about that. I have called and visited co-workers, neighbors, etc., in their times of need. One of my friends at work--She is a powerful woman, very spiritual, and very often, when I'm thinking of her, she's thinking of me. I am not afraid to be a new person or to develop potentialities I have, and, so, I have prayed with her and other women at work. You can guess how the "big" guys over me snicker over that. I've heard some of it. Anyway, Barbara said something to me the other day that I feel is true, but I don't quite comprehend it intellectually. She said that she ministers to me because, although I minister to others, I cannot help myself, often. True. She said that I can annoint others, but that I am not, myself, annointed. I believe she means that I do holy works, but, as it is written, that does not mean that I am not yet a man who lives and suffers like anyone else. Can you--CaMama, Erin, Ducky--make sense of me? I have only moments these days, and not just bad ones. Suddenly I see everything in a clearer light. Sounds like a cliche and what I thought I'd never say, but when I see beauty, I stop to SEE it and to imprint it in my mind. It's kinda scary, as though I'm preparing for a journey. I need to retire from public life so that I can heal physically and psychologically. I am so wounded, so sensitive for a tough guy, a laundry pile, I guess. So, yes, I need time off. I have only to allow myself to take it, but I am the supporter, my wife and three children depend on me. Once I commit myself, I am committed. I used to be able to spell. If I felt well, I'd lift the dictionary that I keep right here. I don't think I have a doctor who can help me. The rheumy says to wait until the 22nd, for my urologist. A long way from here. "Calling all angels." Love and thanks, Black Jack the Jack of Hearts P.S. I want to be upbeat for you, my friends, so I feel lousy about my gloom. CaMama, I know you are sacrificing your rest to push me. I am grateful, very much so.