my steroid: a love story

one of my rheumatologists is hard to get a hold of.  i never get to talk to him.  i need more steroids and anti-malarials (methylprednisolone and hydroxychloroquine).  he needed to call them in to the pharmacy.  i needed to get them, so i could take them in the morning.  my steroid.  my morning engagement. 

his office didn’t get it to me in time.  i went the morning without it.

i picked up my steroid.  actually, my brother did for me.  apparently, the pharmacy had tried calling me twice.  i noticed the missed calls on my phone from a number i didn’t recognize.  it didn’t leave a message, twice.

i finally received a call from the pharmacy. an electronic voice told me i had 24 hours to pick up my drugs before they went back on the shelf.  since i was out, i asked my brother to do it for me.  i couldn’t risk another morning without my steroid.

i’m not supposed to take my steroid everyday now.  i’m supposed to alternate the days when i take it.  i’ve been trying to get off it for almost a year now.  the process is extremely slow.  40 mg, then 36, 32, 28, 24, 20, 16, 12, 8, 4, 2, 0, 2, 0, 2 - each gradation separated by a month or so.

we have been trying to see less and less of each other - gradually cutting each other off.

but, it’s still there - my steroid.  i go a day without it and i feel bad.  i don’t know if it’s physical or mental anymore.  i’m told that it could be either.