On May 29 here's how the conversation went.
Nurse Practitioner: "How much Decadron are you on now?"
Bonnie: "2 mg every other day"
Nurse Practitioner: "So when was your last dose?"
Bonnie: "Yesterday"
Nurse Practitioner: "So . . . that's it, you're done. Yesterday was your last dose."
Bonnie: "Yessssss!"
Nurse Practitioner: "Happy Dance! Happy Dance! Happy Dance! C'mon! Happy Dance!" (At which time she begins to jump up and down, gleefully clapping her hands and trying to grasp mine.)
Healthcare sure has changed since my day.
There was a catch (isn't there always). If I had certain symptoms, blah blah blah, it would be a bad sign and I should call. The only thing I developed was this weekend I had copious amounts of sinus drainage and a fever for two days. So, since I've had none of the scary symptoms and I've been off the stuff for two and a half weeks I think I'm good to go. "Off the stuff" geez, I sound like an addict. But really, my body was addicted to the artificial hormones. I tapered off for a while, then every other day to "kick start the Adrenal Glands" then went Cold Turkey.
Do I need a Twelve Step Program?
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