Steroids

I do not remember a doctor’s caution along with my steroids. I do not remember any mention that 500 mg of Prednisone a day is a horse-size dose. There was nothing about a taper. I got a call at 2:00pm from my doctor to announce that I had MS, “So sorry about that” and then I was told to come in immediately for some lab work and to pick up my steroids. I didn’t even meet with a doctor that day.
I took the four days worth of Prednisone and noticed that my balance improved and my muscles were less heavy. I could walk a little again too. Then I finished the dose but I still had some vertigo and felt like less than myself. My husband was concerned so he called the doctor to see if I could get another prescription since this seemed to be helping. It was not long before we got more Prednisone. Unfortunately my memory of the details is quite hazy since I was still very ill at the time.
I remember that we got a “tapered” dose of the steroids and that over the course of several weeks I worked my way down from 500 mg to 5 mg. I also remember some of my “symptoms” at the time.
I could not seem to get control over my bladder and bowel functions. Everything seemed to take forever to pass. I sat in the bathroom for hours, rubbing my feet and legs and waiting for something to happen. I noticed that my body began to exfoliate. One afternoon I dreamed I had leprosy and that I rubbed my nose off. It is amazing that I slept at all. Sleep became a very frightening thing. After a few days I caved and asked for sleeping pills. They did not help. Instead, I had a massive anxiety attack, heightened by vertigo. Every time I closed my eyes it was for another journey down the rabbit hole. I would notice that I could not swallow and terror would bring me awake the moment I began to drift off. I became an insomniac, haunting the 2 and 4am music countdowns on VH1 while I wrote or researched my disease.
Days were a bit brighter. As I grew better, my body cleansed itself. I munched raw food constantly and finally took laxatives to alleviate my bathroom issues. I felt like I was going through withdrawal (or how I imagine withdrawal must feel) but I embraced it, believing that with this strange cleansing I was moving toward wellness.
As my balance returned, so did my confidence. In the middle of one of my insomniac evenings in the bathroom I stood on my head. A few days later I awoke at 2am to find I could now speak Spanish. By morning my brain felt as though it had reshuffled itself. I found my mind suddenly orderly, like a giant computer. I remembered everything I had ever learned. I felt powerful. I was ready to attempt acrobatic feats. I felt I had become a mutant, capable of achieving any heights to which I aspired. I was actualized. I could multi-task. All worries for the future slipped away. I was suddenly certain that I could make my dreams and the dreams of those I loved come true. I was invincible!
There were strange times too. The insomnia took me on more than one mystical journey. I even had an out of body experience at one point. There were highs of great bliss and lows of hysterical tears cried for hours when no one could see. I knew that the steroids were responsible for my insomnia but I assumed that the rest of my physical and emotional symptoms were coming from my newly diagnosed status.
It has been three months since then. I live in a more regularized state now. The emotional roller coaster is gone but now I often just feel dull. I keep reminding myself how far I have come. I tell myself that I must not regret the actions I make and not beat myself up over mistakes but there is a hollowness I cannot ignore at times. This piece is a cathartic attempt to put all this to rest.
Many people may say “I told you so.” When I was on the steroids I never doubted myself. I was told I acted aggressive and crazy but to me it seemed I was the sanest I had ever been. So I guess this is one of those moments where I say that my critics were right (I hope you get a warm sunshiney feeling from this). Ok, so I’m a bit of a bitch but I am super-annoyed as I write this. Why didn’t the doctors warn me? Why did I get so little explanation about how the steroids would affect me in the moment and in the long term? It is no wonder I had to taper the steroids. Even now I feel at times that I am slipping into darkness. I thought I had made all kinds of personal and spiritual growth during my illness but now it seems that in many ways I am back where I started. Sometimes I question my very need to change. Why do I find the person that I am so unsatisfactory in the first place? Why did it take steroids to make me believe in myself? I felt complete confidence in myself, my decisions and my chosen path when I was healing but now that I feel better, I seem to have lost the strength of my convictions. Every time I awaken there is something troubling me at the back of my mind. At first I labeled it stress and worry but now I see it for the spectre it is. My self-doubt has returned. I don’t feel good about myself or my choices the way I did. For a moment I really believed that I was indeed, “my own best teacher,” but now I again feel that I know almost nothing and I find myself seeking guidance and advice again. Perhaps its a good thing...