One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don’t do anything at all
Go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall

–White Rabbit/Jefferson Airplane

Some days being chronically ill is a merely a challenge, other days it’s a downright circus. Recently, life seems much more circus than challenge.

Let’s start with the pills.

On a good day, my pills are an absolute nightmare. On a bad day, well, hopefully there will be far less of them in the future (the terrible example here being the time I spoke to the cable company and completely blocked it from my memory. When I got home that evening, there was a set-top box on my doorstep). I have a two-tiered, snap-in medicine holder, three separate and a dedicated app that sends me messages reminding me that it’s pill time.

But, I digress.

A few days ago, I got a note that my primary doctor wanted to see me on Saturday. Under normal circumstances, this would be a strange occurrence. This doctor NEVER comes in on Saturdays. It just so happened that I had completed my open MRI and the scans were ready. The nurse called to say that they received the pictures and asked if I would be able to come in the next day, a Saturday. I agreed and we were at the office bright and early that Saturday. The place was a ghost town.

The outcome of this appointment is that I will be decreasing my steroid dose. Hoping it helps to allay some of the Cushing’s side effects. Also, decreasing my Lyrica (terrible side effects). In addition, as a result of the Pain Clinic appointments I will be starting on LDN (or Low Dose Naltrexone).

So there you have it. I warned you not to go down this rabbit hole with me. 😉

Chronic illness: things just keep getting curioser and curioser.