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I found myself at the doctor's office yesterday trying to get this crap behind me. The usual treatment is Medrol Prednisone. Nasty, nasty stuff. I hate it. I crossed every dangly appendage I had there might be some new, or better solution. Nope. It's either live through it and hope for the best or swallow the shit and move forward. With all that is going on, I chose to swallow the shit.

So this takes me out for a few days. One, heat. Heat makes my EM spread, so I have to stay as cool or cold as possible. No hot baths, no going outside in this weather, no warm fuzzy blankets on the couch. Two, heart rate. Gotta keep it in check. That too makes the EM spread. No exercise, no playing chase, no stress. Three, the meds. Ugh. For some reason, when I take that stuff it makes me feel so bizarre. My heart feels like its being slowed, almost sat on. It's a weird sensation. It's also depressing. It really screws with my emotions. I constantly feel like crying. Probably for more reasons than the steroid, but it certainly doesn't help. It also makes me hungry. I'm not looking forward to this battle.

I will say I fought it sort of well and then not so sort of well yesterday. The first bout was a win. I wanted ice cream so damned bad. I was looking for every reason not to buy some while I waited for my prescription at Safeway. I think it was more emotional craving than anything, but it was a force. I avoided that aisle and walked around gathering other things. I found myself in front of a pair of socks. Cheap running socks at Safeway. Ok. I'll get those. I want a treat, so I'll treat myself to those instead of some frozen strawberry creamy concoction with bits of cheesecake swirled in for good measure. I didn't do as well with the deviled eggs. Six of them. I thought Pax would like them. Nope. So I finished the little container. He had one. I had five over the course of the afternoon/evening. By that time it was a full blown reaction to the med. I wanted to eat everything I saw. I wound up having a salad for lunch, those deviled eggs, the few remaining Cheetos from Pax's lunch and a late dinner of a small plate of spaghetti and meatballs that Shawn made. I also had half an apple and a banana and two glasses of whole milk. This is gonna be hard.

My emotions are in the pooper. I'm bummin for so many reasons. I can't believe that I was on such a good trajectory and then BAM! Right in the kisser! I know I can get back on track. I have to get back on track. I refuse to let myself loose to this shit. It's a beast I've been tackling for decades and I will not let it win. It's just right now... right now I'm in the middle of the fight and I'm getting my ass handed to me. I'm uncomfortable. I'm restricted. I'm angry. I'm sad. Pax doesn't understand. He just wants mommy to play and "come on". That breaks my heart. I also feel like I'm letting folk down. Last night my show opened, and I wasn't there. Don't know if I can be there tonight. That really, really sucks. Shawn came home from work and the place was trashed. I didn't get anything done that I usually try to have done before he comes home. It's like I'm failing all around. I've got to find something good in this. I just don;t know where the hell it is. It must be under a rock or stuck in the middle of some stupid hay stack. This one is gonna be hard.

It's 5 freaking thirty in the morning. I've been up for over an hour. My head is spinning. I should be resting up for my favorite run of the week, my Saturday morning solace. I should be exhilarated from last night and thrillingly nervous about tonight. Instead I'm looking at a computer screen and trying to clear my mind. Haven't reached breathing yet. Still kinda underwater. Don't worry, I'll get there. I always do... just gonna take a couple of days... I've been here before.