A Call to Arms: Advance Notice to My Adrenal Glands
Standing tall in fatigues and combat boots, my hair waving somehow gracefully in the wind as helicopter blades beat the air around me, I raise my megaphone:
Listen up, adrenal glands. I’m headed to NY to see my rheumatologist in a week, and we are sure to discuss prednisone. Yeah, that again.
We all know it’s poison and probably causing some of my symptoms at this point, so it seems likely that this visit will be followed by another attempt to kick the habit.
It’s only 5 mg a day, adrenals. The amount you’re supposed to be producing for me, remember?
You’ve been taking it easy, haven’t you? Coasting and letting that little white pill do your work. Well, it’s time to wake up.
Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to slowly taper my dose of prednisone–this is no shock and awe campaign–to give you time to wake up. And in response, you will cooperate.
Be forewarned. My doc says it’ll take a Herculean effort to get off these last 5 mg of prednisone because you’ve been slacking off for two years, but I’m ready to take you on.
This isn’t a skirmish, adrenals. I’m not going to give up when my temperature spikes and my hair starts falling out again. Or when rashes run amok on my skin. Or when you remind me how much I can hurt.
I’m going to eat right. I’m going to exercise. I’m going to stick to my other medication regimens. I’m going to support my body in a thousand ways until you wake up and do your job.
Do you hear me, adrenals? This will be your only warning before I start dropping milligrams. Take heed.
The megaphone clicks off audibly, and I let it fall to my side. I survey my body, the battle ground, and nod.