Yesterday might have been the worst "disease day" I've had in a few years. The full implication of the side effects from the prednisone came crashing down as I came face to face with the crazies. Suppressing my immune system means I keep catching all kinds of infections, which aren't worth noting except to say that combined it's all just a bit too much. Spent much of yesterday vacillating between bawling in my cubicle and wanting to drive myself head first out our 20th floor window. I know it's not rational. I know it's the prednisone. Having been through this all before, I can recognize that the medicine is turning my brain into a gloomy source of desperation and despair, but it still doesn't make it any easier to get through the day.
Sometimes, just sometimes, it's hard to stay positive when something so strong pulls you in the other direction. I fell down a little yesterday and just cried for a good long while. My RRHB was very kind by the time I got home and let me get it all out. Really, all I wanted was someone to tell me that it's all worth it, that it's a good thing to keep fighting the disease, that it's a good thing I'm not dead. I know none of this is rational. But there are moments when I can't pull myself up from under the weight of it all.
Today, though, is better.