Post #44: Second verse, same as the first....

Drama cat says, "nooooooooooooooooooooo"

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Guess who's going back on steroids?

Guess who also still has a cold, after a week and a half, and might need a chest x-ray and a z pack?

Guess who still gets to take the scary medicine AND the steroids after that cold is done? THIS GIRL.

High fives all around! Oh right.

(dramatic sigh).

So I guess there really have been signs all along. And like last time my colon freaked the fuck out, I ignored them until I couldn't. Until there was pain and fear. Until there was only once choice, a choice I felt "forced" to make even though I should have made it months ago. Same song, same station, different day.

I know the steroids will make me feel better, but I also know what tapering means, and how demoralizing it is to slowly lose the control the drug brings. I don't know about the scary drug, and how it will make me feel, but I do know that soon I will have not one but two powerful drugs coursing through my system. I know there will probably be side effects. I know that my pill count will climb again. I know I'll feel alone and powerless over what is happening to my body.

It seems almost quaint that a few days ago, I was idly rationalizing the decision to take this drug.

It seemed like a decision that was far off in the future, a decision that wouldn't effect me now, or so soon.

Someone asked me how I'd feel if I didn't take the medication and developed complications; I said I would be mad at myself. They asked how I'd feel if took the medication, and still developed complications: I said I would be mad at the universe.

I'm just mad.

And in my head, in a loop, I think please be ok, please be ok, please be ok. Every time I go to the bathroom and check for blood, or eat anything, or feel the familiar sweetness of Gatorade slip over my tongue. Please be ok.

Over and over again like a prayer.