I hesitated to report until I was sure the following occurence was not a fluke. Still not 100% convinced, I am willing to at least admit that I am utterly flabbergasted.
Beginning on Thursday April 1st, 2010, there was a noteable absence of stomach pain/nausea/dizziness/hot flash that lasted the entire day. An April Fool's joke from my insides, I thought, a silly trick my own mind is playing on me by bestowing a fleeting power to ignore all discomfort.
Lo' and behold, I awoke Friday April 2nd with yet another suspicious lack of agony. What is this chicanery, I thought. Since when do April Fool's tricks legally last beyond the first 24 hours of the month? Naturally, I tried to out-do this mind-gut-wizard triumvirate by stuffing myself with a full serving of rice noodles. Surely, this will welcome back the pattern of food=pain=nofood=pain that has characterized the last 2 weeks. Alas, I returned home with a psychotic energy and not enough time to utilize it. I ran, I cleaned, I made business phone calls, I added a few unpromising pages to Raganovel 20??... no percocet or hot bladder required. Tea, however, is always required.
When Saturday came and I was approaching 3 full days without the familiar stomach pain/nausea/dizziness/hot flash to which I have become accustomed, I decided a further assault was in order. Sushi. That's right. Raw tuna, crab, yellow tail and avocado. And I waited impatiently for an army of nociceptors to wreak havoc. Half an hour later, thirty measly minutes of stomach bloating.
Sunday I was beginning to think this was something I may have to get used to, so I pushed it to the max: pasta with a few peppers/zucchini/chicken/garlic and a bit of oil in the sauce, some organic gummy candies and a diet ginger ale, and a hardboiled egg wish horseradish (yeah, serious business). Nothing. Not a god damn peep. Total comfort, almost total sleep aside from waking up every three hours for no apparent reason, total abandonment of the hot water bladder (for whose neglect I feel considerable guilt).
Today, Monday April 5th, 2010, is the last of four hellfire Mondays of this experiment at work, and I not only ran before work for the first time in 1.5 weeks, but am on a productive and enthusiastic roll. My doctor may have been right about my experiencing a delayed withdrawal from Prednisone. We shall see in the coming days. Remicade VII is up to bat this weekend.
Cheers, Crohn's, you have me convinced that I am at the very least experiencing some kind of prolonged bodily displacement. And Tummeh... job well done.