It feels as if I’ve been launched by NASA, just without a suit.
I stayed on Prednisone longer than I should have hoping it would do its magic without too much harm. Of course, you don’t know exactly what havoc it’s caused…weaker bones, awakened cancer cells, an immune system that is now up for sale without any prospective buyers.
My hearing didn’t really improve much…a tad…but not what I had hoped. I stubbornly started the meds too late determined not to take them again. A colossal mistake on my part.
So now, without much to show, I have to wean myself off a drug so strong it kept JFK out of a wheel chair for his whole presidency. Yes, John Kennedy was on steroids most of his adult life to combat his Addisons Disease, an autoimmune disorder attacking the adrenal glands. The many shots he received stole the cartilage in his back causing early osteoporosis.
It was the reason he wore a back brace making him, literally, a sitting duck unable to shield himself that fateful day in Dallas. Of course we didn’t know any of that then, but we do now. The truth, even if it takes 50 years, always comes out.
I think of all this as I writhe in pain with leg cramps so bad I have to keep walking. You can see the muscles gyrate beneath my skin as if inhabited by land crabs.
You’re not suppose to drink on steroids, but I’ve been swigging a Jameson and water since around midnight, refilling my glass like an old drunk.
My temper is also at large…another part of the down dosing process. The littlest thing turns you into a bipolar gnome.
I want to call a friend to ask them to lock me in my house for the next 8 or 9 days so I won’t hurt anybody, yesterday almost taking a swing at my deli man.
‘THIS IS WHOLE-WHEAT..I SAID RYE…RYE! ARE YOU DEAF?”
Yes, I really said that. I was the pot calling the kettle deaf.
I have no idea what will happen once the medication is out of my system, another scary thought. It does ply you with a certain amount of power against whatever it is you’re taking it for…in my case…hearing loss.
It’s the Charlemagne of drugs.
If my right ear stays strong, I should be reasonably okay…if it doesn’t, well, Thingirl will be up shit’s creek without an ear to hear you.
Maybe it’s a blessing we have no idea what the future holds.
Right now I’m grateful to sit on this chair, my legs in a holding pattern.