And now for something completely different

I am not as ill as I thought I was. I am, in fact, doing "remarkably well", as per my doctor's reflection. I'd gone in and the only thing that needs work on is that I need to control my protein levels a little more carefully. Otherwise?

"You are managing your diet and your activity extremely well.You are recovering faster and more completely than most other patients do." (I wasn't aware that tests could track your activity levels, but apparently they can. Learn something new every day.)

As of today, I am allowed to drop my Prednisone to 10 mgs, with his intention of dropping it another 5 mgs when I see him next month.

This is uplifting and reassuring in the most deeply psychic sorts of ways. I have gotten so tied up in the fact that I got sick at all, that it's taken eight months - which seems like SO FUCKING LONG to get here - and it turns out that I'm doing better than most patients do with my condition and time length.

I'm doing better. I'm doing better than other people. Yes! Give me a bit of brag to add to my ego, which is the size of Texas. (Is there another state bigger than Texas? Cuz if there is, that's now my goal to get my ego to!)

Now I don't have to feel bad about days when I push hard. Now I don't have to feel bad about the days when I can't get out of bed. I'm still doing better. I fucking rule.

Okay, WE rule. Jesse, the other half of my diet and activity, is owed a great deal of credit. YOU GUYS, with your support through even the most outrageous of my tantrums, all of your suggestions, all of your love and cheerleading, are owed a great deal of credit. Patrick, providing me so much of what financial security I have and endless decades of listening to me endlessly ramble, is owed a great deal of credit.

I rule. We rule. LIFE RULES.

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At least it's nice to see that a body in his 30s doesn't do this bad in recovering as oneself thinks to perceive it sometimes.