T. S. Eliot may have said that “April is the cruellest month” when he wrote The Waste Land, but it turns out that January is not that kind either. I had never really understood what people meant when they said: “Without your health, you have nothing”, until I found myself staring at the four walls of a hospital room earlier this year for three nights, getting excited about what was for lunch, and listening intently for the sound of the newspaper trolley whilst wearing anti DVT socks.

My old friend (or perhaps, enemy), asthma, had come back for a visit – and it wasn’t going too well.

As part of the recovery process, I was put on steroids.  After four weeks on the devil’s own tiny pills, it struck me as odder than ever that some people actually take them by choice so they can “look better”.  If you ever need to take them to get over a proper illness (rather than pumping your muscles and shrivelling other parts of your anatomy in the gym), I have put together a handy guide  to give you an insight into what taking them is really like.

It’s also an opportunity to apologise publicly to my long-suffering family and friends as I sat round being all depressed as I couldn’t do much and morning TV was sending me crackers.

1. Steroids will give you moon-face.  This is a delicate way of saying that your face will get fat, your jawline will “soften” and your eyes will disappear into your head in the same manner as Violet Beauregard when she becomes a big round blueberry/child in Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (still one of my favourite films) and has to be rolled to the juicing room;
2. Nothing will assuage your hunger whilst you take them.  As someone who constantly plans their next meal (and there’s not much else to do in hospital unless you enjoy playing with the settings on your bed or watching teams running round wearing ill fitting fleeces at car boot sales on Bargain Hunt after you have read every magazine available); I found myself thinking of and then demolishing large quantities of food, often in the early hours of the morning. Speaking of which….
3. You will become nocturnal. In the wee small hours, when you just can’t sleep, you will become convinced that this is a good thing, because you can:
   1. Book flights online with dazzling efficiency;
   2. Arrange flowers expertly at 4.00am in the morning;
   3. Watch the news and find out all the sad things happening in the world four hours earlier than usual;
   4. Eat some more sugary cereal;
   5. Clean and tidy your flat;
   6. Go online sales shopping and only recall what you purchased when the package turns up. Still, it was in the Boden sale – so therefore doesn’t count.
   7. Finally understand those people who say:  “I love being up early! The morning is the best part of the day!” Don’t worry.  This too shall pass.
4. There will be tears. Happy things make you cry.  Sad things make you cry more. So does anyone being kind to you, as does a random email from British Airways downgrading your Executive Club membership to Blue after you had, finally, reached the dizzy heights of Bronze for a year, but then didn’t get the chance to go on holiday for the next two years.
5. Your concentration will be shot to pieces and you will forget important things, like follow-up hospital appointments.
6. You think it could be possible to start a fight in a phone box and your nearest and dearest may, tentatively, point out to you that you seem “a bit irate”. This is a mistake. You don’t hear them when they say this, because you’re too busy snapping the next person’s head off, then locating and eating custard creams after a large meal and planning your “photo album catch up”, when it suddenly becomes VERY IMPORTANT to stick pictures on precisely the right pages of an album you have just found.  It must be done, now, and you will NOT be swayed from this task.
7. It is likely that your hands will shake and people will ask (half jokingly) if you have been drinking (if only, I went off alcohol for over two weeks. No wonder I felt ill). I knew I was back to normal when I unscrewed a bottle of Pinot Grigio that had been in my fridge for some weeks and used it to wash down some [more] savoury snacks.
8. Your good friends are brave enough to send you messages saying:  “Don’t be upset, it’s just the drugs.” Cue more tears as they know you so well and are still being kind, (and are obviously very brave with it to suggest that you might not be quite yourself).
9. You have some insight into what it is like to be a cat.  (I slept for 13 hours one day, plus naps). On reflection, I think I would rather enjoy being a cat.
10. Showering will exhaust you.  Getting dressed will tire you out, but you’re worried that if you lose your routine completely, it’s a slippery slope to the bingo websites. The thought of going out anywhere is shattering. Pyjamas are your friend. The first time you walk to work, it’s like a marathon.
11. You realise you can’t wear your clown shoes in a hospital bed after all, and anyway, they wouldn’t go with the anti DVT socks (which a kind nurse helps you on with, as that’s a bit tiring, too).
12. When it’s time to go home, and the lovely ward Sister stares into your mad steroid eyes and asks you if you are really ready to go, because you look like her cat when it goes to the vet, you just don’t know – as this would involve making a decision which isn’t about completing a photo album, arranging flowers, or thinking of something else to eat.  Still, at the back of your mind is that it’s almost time for Bargain Hunt – and you don’t want to miss it!

Until next time – and thank you for putting up with me, in sickness and in health.