So Long, Steroids

So far this withdrawing from steroids hasn't been too bad. On balance, the net positive has far outweighed the negative. The various levels of janglies are gone; I feel pretty much like the normal Jeffrey for the first time since the surgery. That nasty everpresent smell (kind of like chocolate only in a bad way) is gone. I haven't had a solid 8-hour sleep yet, but I have been having numerous little nappies throughout the day today. This is all good.

One interesting thing is that I hadn't used Benadryl or Albuterol the whole time I was on steroids. Usually I take a couple Benadryl at least once a day to control chronic hayfever symptoms. I also occasionally use an inhaler to ease some very mild asthma. Now that I'm off the big, bad steroid, I'm noticing a bit of a return to those typical symptoms I normally take for granted. It was nice having them gone for awhile.

The only significant negative effect so far has been that I am TIRED. Shocking, isn't it? I'm pretty much just beat. I walked over to the store this evening to pick up a few things, and on the way was thinking I'd throw on some real shoes, fire up the lawnmower, and get this jungle cut. By the time I got home a few minutes later, it was clear that I didn't have the juice to do anything of the sort. Not this day.

So we're off the steroids for now. Let us celebrate.

Last night I spent several hours digging in to various sites regarding brain tumors and associated topics. I can't remember how I stumbled on this guy, but I found a fellow who had the same diagnosis as me. He and his wife tell their story here. There's just no way to describe the feeling. Let's try "elated". I was elated to find Scott and his story.

There is something profound to have found someone with the exact same diagnosis. I've mentioned before that my specific kind of tumor was not typical. It's not a rare form of cancer or anything, but the way these tumors manifest themselves and behave are not typical. When me and my cancer buddies are out talking about our tumors, most of the guys and girls can compare notes using a common frame of reference. Mine always felt "unique" because nobody seems to have the same one as me. Now I've got Scott.

Not to make a big deal about it or anything, but did I mention that Scott was diagnosed with my same diagnosis in 1998? I know that no two situations are alike and I am certainly not trying to extrapolate from Scott's story that I'm all set now because hey, "Like tumor, like outcome." At the same time, you might imagine how hopeful and heartening it was for me last night to find Scott's story.

Let us celebrate Scott.