Update, and for everyone's sake, probably my last, on the recent illness issue. Prednisone is responsible for me having gotten two good nights' sleep in a row, so it has a lot going for it in that arena alone. I am sure the antibiotics have also participated in this goodness.
However, it has made me one irritable bitch. I found myself biting my husband's head off, chewing it, and spitting it out yesterday morning over whether or not when I asked him if he saw the back bathroom light on and would he please not turn it off, did I mean EVER, or just that morning. See, my curling iron is plugged into an outlet that only works when the light is on. Therefore, leaving the light on is imperative if I want my curling iron to function. My husband is a habitual light turner offer, however, only in that room. Which has sparked many an irritated moment for me; just as I am about to go curl my hair, I discover that my curling iron is not in fact hot, due to the light being turned off. So he thought I meant don't EVER turn it off, while I actually meant, please not to turn it off in this instance. And his reply was, "no, I won't do that. It's a fire hazard." You would have thought this was a major issue, given the ire it inspired in me, frustrated with the miscommunication situation. That was my first clue something was amiss with the whole Prednisone thing.
Then later in the day, I was hanging out with Hootie on my own, as dear husband went to the UT/Iowa State football game with some friends. It seemed nearly every little thing that precious child did irritated the crap out of me, and I would feel my blood boil, as though I could just yell right at her at that moment, and I had to stop, count to 10, tell myself to chill out. Take a deep breath. Proceed. That strategy did work, but it confirmed in my mind that it's not JUST me having a bad day, there's really something different from my normal self. That is not something I usually experience unless I have had a seriously bad day, which all things considered, I hadn't had at all.
So I looked it up, and one of the first listed side effects of Prednisone is irritability.
I then proceeded to announce to all of my friends and loved ones that if I bite their heads off, get short with them, act like an idiot or am in some other way not myself over the next 3 days, please forgive me and let me know that I need to do a better job of controlling myself on this drug. At least I am aware of it and can manage myself... My mother laughed her fool head off. Prednisone makes her euphoric but some of the other things she's had to take in her lifetime don't have such a positive effect on her, so she well understands.
And, the quantity of green slime coming from my head has drastically decreased. Yay. But another lovely thing I discovered is that I will likely be on 3 different allergy medications for the rest of my life, every single day, as I am fully and completely allergic to Austin. And my allergist strongly recommends I start taking allergy shots pronto. The last time I was tested, earlier this year, I'm severely allergic to ragweed, marsh elder, cedar (which is the worst), oak, molds, and cats. That covers just about every single time of the year here. Right now, it's ragweed, which will slowly give way just as the cedar count is kicking up in November. It's a good damn thing I like living in Austin, else I would likely move the hell away from this allergy nightmare. The bright side? I am not allergic to my dog.
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What you're having, sweetness, is literally roid rage. Now imagine that on a much higher dosage and go make mama some money in Major League Baseball. You'd think the docs or pharmacist would tip you off to this kind of thing. Gah!
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