It all began on February 5th…
That Thursday will likely haunt my dreams for quite some time. It will serve as the traumatic reminder that I am dealing with something very real despite looking ‘normal’. I might not let Multiple Sclerosis define who I am but it sure plays a large and in charge role in my life.
The first day of steroids was emotional to say the least. I took my time with our final nursing session before our three day pump and dump began. I fought tears the entire drive to the clinic and my mother in law talked about who knows what. I was numb and just wanted to stare out the window.
The nurses put me in a chair that allowed for plenty of privacy (More for the patients than me. You know I’m not modest.) so Maverick could settle into our unfamiliar location with a few guzzles from my breast as they started the iv. I owed him that much and he thanked me with a poopy diaper. So, with my limited mobility, I changed his diaper and made him a bottle.
PROVING TO MYSELF THAT MOMS ARE CAPABLE OF ANYTHING WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR BABIES.
Three days of steroids did nothing for me.
Fast forward to the 27th…
I have now had 8 rounds of iv steroids and will start a 7 day oral taper to tide me over until my appointment on March 9th. I feel stronger but I know all too well how short lived steroid protection can be. Not to mention… the false sense of confidence that anyone stuck on bed rest clings to when things get a little better. I want to move around. I need to move around.
I shouldn’t move around.
My appointment has come and gone without a real treatment plan. And, as I continue to wait on Blue Cross to decide whether or not I should be on Tysabri, I’m reminded of how shallow my energy pool is. I can feel my balance slipping away again.
I guess that means I get to keep enjoying my steroid candy diet without guilt? Silver lining, amirite?