After four months of enduring a particular drug called Dexamethasone – a powerful anti-inflammatory steroid used in the treatment of blood disorders, I finally did away with my last bottle.
The comedown from Dex can only be likened to my experiences in clubs during the 90’s, where people of my age group will nod politely and fondly when I say the words “terrible Tuesdays”. When in fact, that lasted nearly TEN days for me, culminating in tonight’s final moments of clarity.
So it’s with this moment of clarity, I write a little poem to my former friend – Dex.
Today’s the day I bid farewell, to four months of bloody living hell. You’ve been a constant thorn in my side, and once weekly, you mess with my insides.
You perk me, you itch me, you mood me to Valhalla, you race my heart rate up to the gods and then crash it to Hades.
You retain my water and fill me with sugar. You suppress my immune system but surprisingly you fix ‘er.
Despite the nasty taste of a hobos ass, I’ve covered that by smoking grass.
Yes indeed that grass helps with your bone pain, it makes me feel funny and magic like David Blaine.
I will not miss the manic Monday mood swings; or the Tuesday blues, what I will miss the most, is the extra dead red blood cells you help colour my poos.
So goodbye sweet Dex, I wish you a hex, on your house forever more, and your spouse of Thalidomide that I shall not endure.