Ode to Prednisone: A Late-Night Performance

Prednisone, oh Prednisone
Wherefore art thou . . .
so. freaking. annoying????

It's 1 am. I'm tired. Really. Honestly. Actually, "exhausted" might be a better word for it. I feel as though I could literally just let go and sleep for a day.

Well, I feel as though I could sleep for a day, that is, if I weren't on 40 mg of prednisone daily as part of a short "burst" up from my maintenance dose of 10mg.

Seriously, what is it about this drug that makes it both so effective and so totally, completely, beyond-a-doubt, and over-the-top, just plain evil?! I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm beyond grateful for the decrease in inflammation and increase in general breathing ability, plus gotta love the fact that I won't be blindsided by the steroids post-tx since I'm already way too familiar with them anyway, but still. Have I mentioned yet that it's 1 am?

This. Is. Ridiculous.

Bright side: thanks to my dear friend Mr. Prednisone (yes, prednisone is male, and with "friends" like these you definitely don't need enemies), I'm less likely to wake up coughing and needing airway clearance at 4 am, which has been my usual pattern as of late. So maybe I'll actually be getting more sleep? Hmm . . . seems unlikely, but I'm willing to grab ahold of it as a possible "silver lining" at this point. Okay, so I'm grasping at straws here people, but then again what did you expect?

I'm on prednisone, remember?

It's not as if all this extra energy doesn't have some advantages though, I guess. I mean, I enjoyed some serious quality time out with my parents tonight over a fabulous dinner and still had it in me to walk over to Times Square and pretend to be a tourist for a while. And of course this was after everything else today: after filming and playtime with Sampson and bonding with my dad over our shared sense of hypercompetiveness (let's just leave it at the fact that we got our game on in several different activities, and I unfortunately lost at most of them -- whatever happened to fathers letting their daughters win??). So you can see why my body is exhausted.

Yeah, it's just too bad my mind is too hopped up on drugs to follow suit.

Anyway, I've decided to put the energy where it belongs: into a quick celebration of everything that is so right with my life right now, because even the worst case of 'roid rage isn't enough to cancel out the fact that I'm blessed beyond measure. Blessed with an amazing, compassionate, and wise doctor who only uses this drug in large doses when I need it but who never hesitates when I do. Blessed with a dad who pushes me enough to never just "let" me win (but who loves me even when I lose). Blessed with a family able to come into New York for the holidays. Blessed with meds that work and veins that are still holding on. Blessed to have a great guy to take me to dinner tomorrow and a lot of fun planned for the upcoming week. Blessed to be almost 28 years out with my original lungs and to have new ones on the way through a great center. I am blessed, and I hope that I can cherish every minute of it for myself and for people like Ronnie and Court and Eva and Kelley and Sara and Sam and Libby and Beth and Patti and all the other cystics out there who I could never name but who inspire me all the time. I'm trying so hard to hold onto this knowledge tonight in the face of a deep loss for the entire CF community, but seriously, blessed doesn't even begin to capture it.

Luckily for me though, I'm totally wired (1:30 am and counting), so I have plenty of time to savor every blessed little moment.