It's been so long since I posted here. It seems like my failure to taper my prednisone, and all the associated unpleasant side effects and emotions, along with the loss of another pregnancy by my beautiful daughter-in-law have turned off my ability to express my feelings in print. So this will be a summary of the highlights and lowlights of over four months of my life.
First of all, I haven't yet succeeded in tapering below 10mg of prednisone. I kept having breakthrough symptoms of my underlying disease (the reason I'm on prednisone – temporal arteritis) whenever I would taper beyond a certain point. I failed miserably to get to 7.5mg in August, then failed again when only on an every other day regimen of 10/7.5mg, then failed again trying to get to 8.75mg at the 10mg for 2 days, then one day of 8.75mg… Then, several weeks before Christmas, my heart starting acting up again. First there were lots of PVCs – somewhat uncomfortable, but not dangerous. Then 5 out of 6 nights in a row I had an episode of afib, each lasting anywhere from 10 minutes to several hours (and this is after 3 months of no afib episodes at all). My husband said it was probably the stress of the upcoming holidays, which are never easy for me. I do think it was that, combined with the stress of trying to taper and continuing to fail. I saw my doctor, and he ran many tests. The only abnormality was an asymptomatic UTI, which could have stimulated some of the heart irritability. I hope it is treated now – my post-treatment culture was submitted today. I'm still having occasional afib, and it seems to be related to the prednisone taper dosages which I've just started again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll get through this.
And now we are approaching the one year anniversary of my grandson's birth, and his death. I always say that the first year is the hardest for any major life tragedy. Everything is a "first" – after that, they are seconds, and then thirds. Not that the pain isn't still there, because it is - but there is something so agonizingly raw about "firsts." I made it through the stress of the holidays with only a few hiccoughs; I'm not doing so well right now.
I remember, and the memories are both wonderful and awful, intermixed, and out of sequence. What haunts me most is the phone call from my son stating there was "no heartbeat." My heart is still broken, at times beating fast and wild, while his never beat outside of his mother's womb. The dreams of "connection," and then goodbye. Did I have the connection dreams because there would never be a real world connection? Was the goodbye dream real? I know it was - but, again, it breaks my heart, brings the inevitable tears. Seeing my husband's face, at last year's Christmas, full of wonder when he felt, for the first time ever in his life, our wonderfully alive grandchild doing summersaults in his mother's womb. The happy faces, full of hope and dreams; the tragic faces full of disbelief and grief.
Do painful experiences happen for a reason? If so, what possible reason could this be? Too much pain to too many loved ones. But we go on, we learn, we survive, we live, we love, and we learn to laugh again. And we cry, and grieve, and have an emptiness that can't be filled by anything or anyone else. But instead of being an emptiness in the center of our being that we can't see around, it is slowly pushed to the periphery – it is there, but it doesn't rule us anymore.
Happy birthday my dear Liam – you are loved.
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