This post follows hotly on the heels of my last several.
You all know about my recent experience with steroids. I was bit by a cat and to help the incredible swelling of my hand go down, my doctor prescribed a course of steroids. And it turned out that being on steroids (that kind anyway) almost completely eradicated the symptoms of chronic fatigue I live with daily.
It was beautiful. But it was short-lived.
I had three days of the initial dosage before I started tapering off, and even on that fourth day, when I just began my descent downward, the magic was gone. And I mourned those three lovely days for a while before I used my return to physical misery as a catalyst to call my regular doctor and make an appointment.
I will be a squeaky wheel. No, she will not be able to put me on steroids forever. It’s neither safe nor healthy. But I will go in and put pressure on her to help me find some alternate kind of treatment. Something that will make me feel better, and something which can stay with me. As I am up very late for me (sadly, being tired all the time doesn’t equal me being able to actually sleep) my appointment is now at three o’clock this afternoon. Wish me luck.
In the meantime, I created a self portrait about the experience, which is how they often come about. No better way to get something off your chest than create art about it.