Week 8
Officially in week eight of not-feeling-so-hot. I'm still not fixed.
There are good times and there are bad times, which is certainly an improvement in that those good times exist.
Part of what really bothers me at the moment is Prednisone. This drug is officially fucking with my brain. I've seen it do it to my father, a friend of the family or two. There was a point on Friday where I wanted to bite everyone's head off for no actual reason. I'm not sure if I'm lachrymose right now because I'm actually upset or because the drugs are tweaking again.
I have REASONS to be upset and maybe I've reached a point where I cannot take shoving it away any longer and need to cry it out...or it could just be the drugs.
I don't know. My body's signals are all kinds of messed up right now, where I cannot tell if I'm hungry or in pain or full but chances are I should just try to sleep through it anyway.
I think I've officially decided that I'm not going on choir tour. I'm mourning that loss. I want to go to Canada and Niagara Falls and Cedar Point and these random churches with these youths I've just started to get to know with music that I've enjoyed learning for the past few months. It was going to be a good adventure, spent with some of my good camp friends and corresponding hijinks.
But I'm not fixed yet. And when I have those bad moments, I need to stop and hit the narcotics, cuddle up with my heating pad at the very least. When I need a restroom break, it's anywhere from two to thirty minutes. And I just don't have the energy.
So my summer has officially not kicked off so much as I would have planned. The prednisone also makes my cheeks blimp out which annoys the crap out of me. And it also messes with my internal temperature so I feel o'erwarm. And I'm not tasting things like how they are. REALLY hate said drug.
But yeah, like I was saying, my summer's not going as I had originally planned. I'm signed up to do lifeguard training this week. I don't know if I can actually do it. I'm pretty worried. But I have the sense that if I can at least get the certification, I can at least salvage part of my summer. On an emotional level, I need to do it. I'm still not sure if I have the actual ability to make it through five days of eight hours each.
Today, I swam some and went to a movie with my family; all in all, totally worn out in four hours. Eight weeks. I'm scheduled for a colonoscopy in another two because we don't know why I'm still broken. I still think being sedated for a week while my body gets a chance to figure itself out again is not a bad idea.
That all being said, prayers and happy thoughts, please. Feeling down at the moment.
There are good times and there are bad times, which is certainly an improvement in that those good times exist.
Part of what really bothers me at the moment is Prednisone. This drug is officially fucking with my brain. I've seen it do it to my father, a friend of the family or two. There was a point on Friday where I wanted to bite everyone's head off for no actual reason. I'm not sure if I'm lachrymose right now because I'm actually upset or because the drugs are tweaking again.
I have REASONS to be upset and maybe I've reached a point where I cannot take shoving it away any longer and need to cry it out...or it could just be the drugs.
I don't know. My body's signals are all kinds of messed up right now, where I cannot tell if I'm hungry or in pain or full but chances are I should just try to sleep through it anyway.
I think I've officially decided that I'm not going on choir tour. I'm mourning that loss. I want to go to Canada and Niagara Falls and Cedar Point and these random churches with these youths I've just started to get to know with music that I've enjoyed learning for the past few months. It was going to be a good adventure, spent with some of my good camp friends and corresponding hijinks.
But I'm not fixed yet. And when I have those bad moments, I need to stop and hit the narcotics, cuddle up with my heating pad at the very least. When I need a restroom break, it's anywhere from two to thirty minutes. And I just don't have the energy.
So my summer has officially not kicked off so much as I would have planned. The prednisone also makes my cheeks blimp out which annoys the crap out of me. And it also messes with my internal temperature so I feel o'erwarm. And I'm not tasting things like how they are. REALLY hate said drug.
But yeah, like I was saying, my summer's not going as I had originally planned. I'm signed up to do lifeguard training this week. I don't know if I can actually do it. I'm pretty worried. But I have the sense that if I can at least get the certification, I can at least salvage part of my summer. On an emotional level, I need to do it. I'm still not sure if I have the actual ability to make it through five days of eight hours each.
Today, I swam some and went to a movie with my family; all in all, totally worn out in four hours. Eight weeks. I'm scheduled for a colonoscopy in another two because we don't know why I'm still broken. I still think being sedated for a week while my body gets a chance to figure itself out again is not a bad idea.
That all being said, prayers and happy thoughts, please. Feeling down at the moment.