I have a confession to make, I never started the Prednisone. I instead called my parents the day after my breakdown and did something that I found very difficult. I asked for their financial assistance. After reading what the Prednisone was going to do to me, basically make me worse, Stocker and I decided we would take my parents offer of short term help – then make some sacrifices in the future so I would have some quality of life.
I did not make this decision lightly. I knew full well it would cripple us financially and rob us of some our hopes for the future. Mine was a wedding – I wanted to get married to the man I love, I have now crossed that off the list. My medication right now is going to cost $300 a month. This is the least it will ever be, they will more likely add to that rather than take away. Yes, before you all tell me how lucky I am, I know there are people worse off than me.
I didn’t start taking said medication until Saturday, when I was ready to start taking it. I started with the anti-inflammatories and added the Budesonide (my replacement steroid) Sunday. Until Wednesday – my side effects were mild and manageable. Wednesday I felt like I should have woken up in an ice bath with a bad patch job over where my left kidney should have been. Ah – the familiar pang of a kidney infection – I knew it well. Having occasionally overindulged in the art of drinking during my tertiary education – I was familiar with the pain and didn’t let it get too out of control. I stopped the medication and drank around…. Ohhh… 40 litres of water… this had the desired effect and I now feel like I am only occasionally getting poked rather than having a gaping hole in my side. As much as it doesn’t sound like it, this is a vast improvement. Back on the drugs.
Am I worried about what they are doing to me? Mind numbingly. But what choice do I have? Go into hospital now and start getting bits of small bowel, no longer than my thumb, cut out only for Crohns to pop up anywhere else (and I mean anywhere) along my digestive track. Or what I am doing now, which is basically drugging the disease (and me for the most part) into submission. Yeah, I don’t really like my options either – but what’s a Crohn-y to do?
On a happy note last weekend I went to puppy school with Stocker and our 5 month old heeler Sophie. The trainer, Heidi, noticed we weren’t our normal selves and I told her, it just rolled out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop myself. Luckily she had some experience with it and didn’t launch in to a vitriolic speech. After class we stayed back to rid Sophie of more energy before we embarked upon the homeward journey. The trainer stayed and asked if we would join her for the next lot of classes – at no charge. I nearly cried. Never again will we knock back help from anyone, in any form. It might be a small thing to most people – but its huge to us and I hope that we made the depth of our appreciation known.
I think that’s about all for now… Oh wait, I did join a message board for IBD sufferers… but I am a little scared to write there apart from my awkward introduction post. They all have their list of drugs in their signature – most much longer than mine… I find that a bit odd, the last thing I wanted was to be known for m disease and what I have to take… Maybe its not the right place for me?