Prednisone and Me as Depicted by my Dogs

This is me.

This is me on prednisone.

Awesome right?  I think so.  

In my ceaseless quest to kick the Black Death once and for all, I have been prescribed prednisone to “help all that crap get out,” as my GP so succinctly put it.  I gather from further discussion that the steroids reduce the inflammation in my ear, nose and throat allowing things to drain and me to live semi normally while the antibiotics hopefully work their magic (I say hopefully because after two or three rounds, I am not feeling particularly optimistic).  To its credit, the pred is accomplishing exactly what it was promised to do.  The pressure in my ears and head has been greatly reduced and I am no longer reduced to panting at night because my throat is so swollen I can barely breath.

I have taken pred before a few times, most notably when I somehow managed to consume poison oak when I was 11 years old after falling face first into blackberry bushes lined with it.  It was a special time.  Prednisone was even used to help save Emma’s life a few years ago.  I am pretty familiar with pred and it has never done me wrong.  Hell, I am thrilled with the results right now though I am told that I might be exhibiting some of the more common side effects…like feeling a little invincible and talking so fast I could do those legal disclaimers at the end of car commercials.  So let’s take a moment to review the checklist:

Seriously, I know I am supposed to sleep in bed but it just isn't happening. At ALL.

Difficulty Sleeping:  Check.  I slept a cumulative total of about three hours last night.  I finally gave up at 5 am and began cooking dinner, running to the store for spices I had forgotten, resumed cooking breakfast, making breakfast, doing three loads of laundry, organizing the dog room and playing with the dogs before going to work early.  Don’t worry, I will be wiped out by 6 pm tonight but won’t start dozing off until around midnight at which point I will get up several times, try to read, rearrange the entire bed no fewer than eight times and repeat the process all over.

"Roll over, Liz! Roll over!" No problem. I am pretty good at whilring around the room on my own without the aid of steroids, thank you!

Feeling of a Whirling Motion:  Check.  But that probably doesn’t have anything to do with the pred.  In fact, I know it doesn’t.  It has everything to do with that bitch of an inner ear infection messing around with the Meniere’s.  It doesn’t even phase me.  Take THAT, prednisone!

You know what sounds good? A cupcake...with a side of fries...and some chow mein...

Increased Appetite:  Check.  Specifically, I want highly processed junk foods I haven’t craved in months.  I attribute a large part of this to wanting comfort foods because I am not feeling well but I can honestly say I have never had the urge to consume six Twinkies, a Snickers and chase it down with Mountain Dew in my entire life.  I HATE Mountain Dew, and yet is sounds absolutely DELICIOUS!  Fortunately, I haven’t acted on THAT particular craving but damn I love those Cheez-its and a Mr. Goodbar Miniatures.  And nachos.  And white chocolate chips.

My fear? Getting so fat I can't roll over in bed. Yeah, Niles. You are so on a diet after this one.

Weight Gain:  Well, with the lack of exercise and sleep combined with the monstrous desire to singlehandedly keep Hostess in business of course CHECK.  A big fat checkity check check check.  Most of this I suspect is actually water weight as I have somehow managed to eat under my maintenance calories for the past several days but those processed foods I have been consuming just make my skinny little fingers swell up into fat little sausages.

Thank you to puppy Isabella and the old man, Niles for their assistance in this post.