8-2-2002 - 9-15
Steroid Rage The fire of anger only burns the angry. I went to see my doctor yesterday because the pain in my legs has been steadily increasing. Usually between a combination of medication, massage, acupuncture and hydrotherapy I can keep it at tolerable levels, but the last few night I have been waking up with my legs on fire...and then after I am awake, I begin to worry. You know those 3am fears that you manage to suppress during the daylight I like my doctor a lot, probably because she used to be a nurse and actually listens before she prescribes, but I clearly frustrate her. She's an honest enough doctor to admit it. Another thing i like about her. I tell her I am worried about the pain ruining my upcoming vacation. Ray deserves better. We both know that I am heading for another round of steroids. So I get IM cortisone in both my knees and my hips. It burns like the semen of the devil himself. Sharri writes out the prescription. 'At least steroids are cheap. Soon I'll be swinging like Sammy Sosa' I joke with her. I still have my sense of humor. She gives me a hug and asks for a postcard from Italy. I hate being on steroid. My face gets puffy. I eat too much and my waistline gets puffy. My feet swell and my shoes don't fit. Worse is I get roller-coaster moody, alternating between impotent anger and tears. Family, you have been warned. Michael is there when I get home. He's frustrated with me too, although he rarely says anything. He doesn't think I should take the steroids. Michael believes that 'we hold on to that which serves us' even if it's pain. I will give up the pain when I am ready. I understand this rationally, but I am not in a rational mood. I'm not in the mood to deal with Michael, either. I know you love me, Mikey. I love you too, but I want to be alone. I go upstairs to my bedroom. The stairs are a challenge. I fill the bathtub with water as hot as I can stand, turn off the lights and turn on the whirlpool. I slip back into the womb.
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