I had a moment of terror last night – woken up at 2:30 by my insides, for the first time in a while. Pain, not the worst I’ve ever had, certainly, but decidedly unpleasant pain. Naturally, I went to the bathroom. Spent 20 minutes alternating between almost-acceptable and agony, and I’m not quite sure whether the tears were from the pain, or the frustration, or a combination. My money’s on the latter.
But with tramadol, the pain subsided. I managed to sleep, fitfully, mind you, but some sleep was had. There was no blood – both good and bad, I suppose, because blood at least is an indicator that something is definitely not right. But this was just pain, urgency and whatnot. So I’m not sure what’s up with my insides right now, but come actual daytime morning, I was okay. Back to my current fairly remission-y self. But I’m worried it could happen again, and realistically, there’s nothing I can do to avoid it nor know if it’s coming on. All I can do is keep an eye on what’s happening, see if there are any tip-off factors for moments like this.
On Tuesday, I’ll be taking my prednisone dose down again. I’m more nervous than excited. If I stay ‘okay’, then that’s great. But if symptoms start recurring… worrying that steroids are the only thing that give me some kind of relief from the grim reality of severe colitis… that’s not such a pleasant thought. So for now, I will enter into this next phase with some trepidation, and we’ll just have to see what happens. Since I’ve had these past few ‘good’ weeks, I’ve obviously spent less time dwelling on the possibility of surgery and all that jazz. But I’m forcing myself to be realistic again, because when it comes to chronic illnesses, few things last forever.
But in the meantime, while I am doing pretty well, I’d better get back on top of Sunday’s necessary chores. Tidying and baking (necessary? yes!) and writing. O, the one day weekend…