I’m sitting looking out over the snow in my yard. There is a woodpecker munching on my suet feeder. There are chickadees and titmouses (titmice?) grabbing some of the sunflower seeds from the clear plastic feeder that is stuck to my window. The squirrels are, apparently, huddled in their nests somewhere because they really haven’t been making much of an appearance this morning, yet. It’s really a pretty morning.
I’ve been fighting hard to get completely over the flu from December when… WHAM… Bronchitis from January derails any hope of my January infusion being on time, if happening at all. The antibiotics aren’t really helping an awful lot. My infusion is a week late now… my MTX has been put off for at least last week and this week and probably next week.
This morning, the stress of 70 hour weeks and forgetting to go pee, let alone eat and putting sleep off in the interest of “Git ‘er done” has all contributed, this morning, to my fingers and wrists screaming about whatever has been going on in my body.
Stress is really kicking my behind.
I try not to. Honestly I do. I try meditation. I try not bath. I try walking. I put bird feed into the big giant bird feeder out front, and I kind of melted down in the kitchen on the floor because I could not make my hands get the roof back on the bird feeder.
Stress is RA’s evil insidious little friend… and just when you think it’s safe to take a breath, something happens and your body rebels. Stopping the drugs that make your immune system dumbed down so your body can heal from the sick just pisses off the rest of the immune system and WHAM… it comes screaming back to remind you that it is SO there.
Prednisone… I’m turning to you again… not a huge dose, but one that I really really didn’t want to have to start taking.