The Choice by Bernadette Bohan Read Free Book Online Page A

side effects. Tackle one thing at a time, I decided.
Over the next few days the cortisone seeped through to every joint in my body, right through to my fingers and toes. I learnt that the only way to lead anything approaching a normal life would be to pace myself carefully. I was in unbelievable pain when I woke up each morning, my joints stiff and immovable. Richard and Sarah were always taken to school by my neighbour – I would be literally hunched over like an old crone, and in no state to go anywhere at that time of day. I would gradually loosen up until I could almost stand upright, which would be around midday. I was never able to stand completely straight, and this in itself put a huge strain on my back. At half past one I had pulled myself together sufficiently to be ready to leave the house to collect the children, but I would shuffle up the road at no more than a snail’s pace. For everyone else it took just six minutes; for me it took over half an hour. Then we would potter back home, the children skipping back and forth along the pavement like puppies, covering three times the distance I travelled in half the time.
Household tasks – as few as I could reduce them to – I would spread throughout the day, and I did as many as I could sitting down, so as not to strain my knees too much. Anything extra, anything enjoyable – like gardening, or sewing – was out of the question. This was so strange for me: even before my recent period of hypomanic behaviour, I was not a person for sitting around. I like to be up and about, busy and active. I have no patience for lounging about and I hardly ever watch television. What a punishment this was for me! It drove me mad not to be able to do things, particularly when I knew how much there was to get done. Perhaps this was God’s way of telling me to slow down – I often think that He finds ways of teaching us the lessons we most need to learn.
I was taking sixteen prednisone tablets each day, plus one Tagamet to prevent stomach ulcers. I took the first dose early in the morning, and then at four hour intervals throughout the day. About half an hour after I’d taken the tablets I would feel an easing of the pain, and I would be relatively fine for the next two hours, after which the pain would return and I would find myself counting the minutes until the allotted time for the next dose. The periods of lesser pain were when I would schedule any tasks I had to do – I paced my own activities to match the rhythms of the drugs. I also knew I couldn’t be on my feet too much or for too long, or I’d pay for it with excruciating pain later.
One afternoon I was up at the school waiting for the children. I put on a bright smile to greet the other mothers who clustered around the school gates. I noticed the mother of one of Richard’s friends looking at me curiously. Marian knew I had been ill, and asked me how I was doing.
‘Not so good, if I’m honest,’ I replied. This wasn’t like me. I hardly ever talked to anyone about how I was feeling, apart from Ger, but I knew she would understand the situation because she was a nurse. She might even have some ideas on how I could help myself. ‘These steroids are giving me pain in my joints like I’ve never known, and I’m wondering what I can do to ease the pain. Do you think maybe I should bring forward the times at which I take them, like take them every three hours instead of every four?’
‘No, definitely not, don’t be tempted to do that,’ she warned. ‘If you did that you would effectively be increasing your dose. Take paracetamol in between doses to keep the pain down – and take the maximum dose it allows on the packet. You might also try bandaging your joints tightly – that should help.’
I followed her advice gratefully. I learnt to take the paracetamol around half an hour before the time I estimated the pain would be at