Losing. Those. Cheeks.

Want to see something scary?

I mean like, really, really terrifying. You might even have nightmares.

Ok, fine. You asked for it.

This is me, 2 months into my treatment for Wegener's, on 60mg of Prednisone per day. Yes, that's a lot; however, I know people who have taken even more.

And, just for reference, here is a photo of me only one week before I began treatment:

What a difference two months can make.

I told you it was scary!

Prednisone is probably my worst enemy. I hate it even more than I hate the taste of peas. And I struggle with my internal battle over Prednisone even more than I did with that girl in high school who wore the Nike sneakers and always acted like she was better than me (just a side note - since I let her consume my thoughts so often, she probably WAS better than me).

Anyways, my point.

Thankfully, my battle with Prednisone, while still going on, is coming to an end. I hope, anyways.

I am down to 5mg per day, and slowly but surely, that weight is coming off.

At one point, the skin on my face was being pulled so tight, that I could not lay on my back at night because it felt like I was suffocating. I could see my cheeks out of the corners of my eyes. It actually even hurt to smile. 

But things are looking up. 

This is me today:

I still have a ways to go, but if I look hard enough, I think I can make out the actual shape of my face.

I can no longer see my cheeks in my eyes.

I can actually sleep on my back.

I don't actually look like someone tore open my face at the forehead, and poured a gallon of water into my head.

And the weight is not only coming off in my face, but it's coming off on the rest of me as well. My entire time in Colorado has been spent in a pair of jeans that I haven't worn in over a year. 

And while Prednisone has done me a lot of harm on the outside, I have to admit that it has done wonders for me on the inside. Any patient on Prednisone will tell you that they have a love-hate relationship with it. They love it because it keeps them from lying 6 feet in the ground, but they hate it because of the way that it makes them look and feel.

Not only that, but watching myself transform into a balloon has done wonders for my self esteem, now that that balloon is slowly beginning to deflate. I no longer feel so uncomfortable in my own skin, and I actually feel pretty, dammit.

One year ago, you couldn't pay me one million dollars to pose for the camera. But slowly, I am coming out of that shell. I am less reluctant to have photos taken of myself and more willing to blast my pearly whites.

I will beat this stupid disease no matter what. I'm ready to be myself again. :)