leg salad sandwich

One thing they don't tell you when you are nine and begin taking prednisone for 18 years is that at the end, when you are in withdrawal, you won't be able to walk. Yeah, I was surprised too. Painkillers, not so much helping. Part of me wants to abscond into the Fort bathroom and just gulp down all the prednisone I can see, withdrawal be damned. Everything would be better then! I'd have my legs back and feel like eight to ten bucks! But no, because I was raised to believe that through hard work one can achieve all things.

Today at the doctor, I pulled myself up the stairs by gripping the railing hand over hand and dragging my legs along behind me. Raging biceps, anyone? Raging biceps. Anyone.

I am pleased to report back to you, Crohns, about what the MRIs of others are like. Did you know, for example, that for a brain MRI, you don't have to drink the "pina colada" contrast (pina colada my ass) that makes you throw up? You don't have to drink anything! How luxurious! Plus, I even got ear plugs! These other people are living large, Crohns. There was a prolonged argument about whether I would receive an IV and get contrast. The technician told me that the radiologist wanted me to have it. I said the neurologist said I didn't have to. Reprise kindergartenesque "yes, no, yes, no" back-and-forth. Ultimately, I won.

MRI with no drinking and no IV = heaven on earth. I know, I have no life anymore.