captkevman

Last week, I managed to come down with this season’s flu, along with a bit of pneumonia. Over the course of the past few years, I’ve managed to get West Nile and H1N1, but neither of them kicked my butt like this year’s one-two punch of Flu + Pneumonia. On Day Four, I managed to get to the doctor’s office, where I was prescribed an antibiotic, as well as a steroid to combat my combined ailments. The steroid was prednisone, and the dosage went something like this: 6 pills on Day 1, 5 pills on Day 2, 4 pills on Day 3, etc.

On Day 2 (the morning after I took the initial 6 pills), I woke up feeling better than I’ve felt in years.

Seriously - that’s not an exaggeration.

Normally, when I wake up, I’m groggy, and overall annoyed and angry. That morning, I was feeling very positive, and I was joking around with the kids and getting them up and ready for school in an almost melodic way. Normally, it’s a struggle to get them even out of bed, let alone dressed and out the door.

I was lucid and acutely aware of the day ahead. Normally, I stagger through my day in a hazy fog, trying to get from task to task to get through the day. Often, I find my brain “frozen” - overwhelmed at the sheer volume of things I have to get done. Not that day, though: I began my day with a sense of clear purpose, as if a veil had been lifted from around my brain.

I immediately knew the steroid must have had something to do with it, and I knew that it wouldn’t last. Which begged the question: are my normal daily meds hurting me more than helping me?

I’ve spent the last few years in a constant state of “scatterbrain.” The simplest tasks overwhelm me. I’ve always thought I was just disorganized, and I dismissed it as my A.D.D. “acting up.” But in retrospect, it’s been much more than that.

A little over two years ago, I decided I wanted to start cartooning again. I spent the following several months trying to come up with a concept, and eventually decided what I wanted to do (an amalgam of many different ideas). In Fall of 2009, I started the strip, but I was only able to produce a small handful before I got in my own way enough to derail it.

I’ve been wondering what’s so wrong with me that I can’t do the simple things that seem easy for most other people. I think I’m finally realizing that the meds I’ve been on for years have been essentially lobotomizing me, keeping me from functioning as I need to.

What happens now, I have no idea. But I’ll be heading to the doctor to have a chat with him and see where things go from there.