Interferon is tough to take

They warned us....they said it could be tough, but wow. I had no idea how brutal this would be on Barry. Its not like chemo. This is a five day a week, hour and a half infusion of interferon for one month and it has knocked Barry on his butt. The first day, immediately after the first infusion he got the shakes so bad he almost cracked a tooth he was shivering so badly. The nurses rushed to put mountains of warm blankets on him and the drive home was hard, even with the heat blasting at 80 degrees it was hard. The second day my friend brought a large "bib" that you can microwave and lay on him which was an enormous help. By then end of the week the shakes started to lessen, but he got raging fevers...one day it was 103. Then he sweats it off. Its so hard to watch. The first day after I finally got the shakes taken care of and he drifted off into sleep I went out into the dining room and just sobbed. He has a bit of reprieve over the weekend, but he is so fatigued, which is totally unlike him. They even had him start on Prozac because they said this can really get you down. Barry is in good spirits though for the most part. We have sooo many people ready and willing to help him out. I have to work (someone has to bring home a paycheck....which is a whole other story with Barry being unable to work) so my friends are pinch-hitting for me, driving Barry to his appointments since he is not able to drive if he gets the shakes. I have arranged for 4 weeks of people to take him, but it still bothers me big time that I can't take him. Its my husband, my responsibility, and I WANT to be there to take care of him, but I can't. I'm learning to let it go, but its hard. My friends have been absolutely amazing and they are so anxious to help and its my job to let them. One of the many, many things I'm going to be learning thru this experience. I sitll have moments of "I don't WANT to be alone...I don't WANT to be a widow this young...I'm afraid" but I also have to learn to just live in the moment and appreciate every single day. We have no idea how this will turn out, but being in the medical profession, I know how others have turned out and its not so good. We are looking into a lot of different things, but right now, just getting him thru this treatment is an odyssey all by itself. Crying is an every day occurence now...sometimes it helps, sometimes not. But I am still choosing joy, over everything else. There is still joy to be had. I still have my husband....He's still here. He's still here.