My mood is low today. I saw my GI doctor because I have UC and am having a flare. I will be on prednisone for 6 weeks. Most of that time is the ramping down process.Weaning off corticosteroids is no joke. My adrenal glands will be very unhappy with me during each step in the tapering process. They’ve been sleeping, letting prednisone do the work and now I’m going to kick them out of bed. Overall prednisone makes me feel ill. I have good days and bad days on it. Today is a bad day.
Fortunately, I have built up tools to turn around my thinking. I waited 45 minutes at the lab to be handed a bunch of stuff to poop in. Bummer. When it was finally my turn I was tickled by the fact that these containers were collected in a snazzy purple bag. I made a joke about it to the world-weary lab lady and she laughed. I felt better.
I talked to people on the phone and texted with people who care about me. With one friend, I specifically instructed him not to try and fix anything. I just wanted him to listen to me feel sorry for myself and respond with empathic noises and words. The conversation was brief. He called me a trouper, which is something I love to hear. I felt better.
I talked to another friend and forced a chipper attitude. I made sure he knew how well I was handling my illness and my feelings about it. As I heard myself saying, “I’m lucky, it could be so much worse” I started to believe it and also feel the truth in my words. I was happy to be talking to him and catching up. The forcing eased. I felt better.
I joked with a friend at work about someone bringing Patron to her BF’s birthday party this Saturday. If I know one thing about alcohol, it’s that Patron is the kind of tequila that people think is fancy but is actually nasty. I told her that the new dress I’d ordered for the party was not going to work with any kind of bra. My Es need support. I told this to another friend and she informed me that bralessness is known as “Free Boobing.” I started singing Tom Petty, “Cuz I’m freeeeee, free boobing.” I laughed. I felt better.
Another friend texted me to say that she’d be around work until yoga if I needed her. She also sent me a couple of her favorite tracks from Rihanna’s forceful new album Anti. Listening to songs Work and Love on the Brain had me grooving at my desk. I felt better.
I’ll allow myself to crawl into my bed after work and cry if I need to. I’ll get out of my bed and go to yoga. I’ve had these types of tools around for a while (exercise, write, get out of bed, etc). The real difference now is my investment in more friendships, real ones, great ones. I’ve been down this road before but I’ve never had all these precious hands to hold.