Getting Huge

Because of my massive bulging biceps and tendency to rant at the government, many people assume that I'm a regular user of anabolic steroids.

I am the first to admit that it's highly unusual for a human to achieve such pure physical awesomeness without the aid of drugs and/or Lee Majors technologies...but the truth is that I am product of nothing more than hard work and a strict vegan diet.

OK, that was a lie. The truth is that I can't imagine life without pepperoni, Egg McMuffins, and Chipotle chicken burritos...and the day I actually work hard at anything will be widely interpreted as a herald of the apocalypse. But my physique IS the result of entirely natural processes, with no pharmacological enhancements.

Until now, that is. Prepare for extreme Hulkalization -- I'm on the 'roids, boys.

You see, I've had this funny sloshing sound inside my head for about a month now. I became convinced early on that it was NOT pool water stuck in my head, because after decades of swimming I have become accustomed to dealing with that particular phenomenon. The normally-effective remedies for ear water hadn't worked, and yet the sounds remained. I finally decided to go see the doctor.

You may ask why I didn't go sooner. Well, there was no pain, and no symptoms other than the noises, so I felt it wasn't anything serious. I figured it would just go away on its own...and who wants to spend the time and money for an appointment when the probabilities say that they guy will look inside my head and tell me "it'll go away on its own"? (Either that or he'll say it's a psychological problem and I need to see a therapist. Heck, I hear that diagnosis from swimmers and officemates on a daily basis. I don't need to pay someone to tell me I'm delusional. Geez.)

He stuck his little conical viewer thingy in my ear and gave it a good look. It turns out that there's no water. No infection. No Ceti-Alpha-Five earwigs. There was a hint of swelling in my eardrum, and a little bit of unidentifiable crusty stuff on its surface...but nothing that indicated an obvious cause for my problem. The doctor prescribed a brief regimen of steroids, hoping that such a treatment would cure whatever the problem actually was.

Steroids? Cool! I could use a little extra muscle with these swim meets coming up. COMSA doesn't do drug testing, so I should be able to get away with it! I'll set multiple PRs, recover quickly, and enter the summer training season looking like Dolph Lundgren! And I won't hear any more phantom sloshing! The only downside is that I'll be surrounded by even more gorgeous women begging for my attentions--as if I don't have enough of that problem already. Geez.

Bear with me a moment; I'm going to read the pamphlet that came with the prescription so I'll know how soon I can expect the extra mass and aggressiveness to appear.

Oh.

Well...that's interesting.

It says here that I've been given "cortico" steroids...which are completely different from "anabolic" steroids. Anabolics are the ones that bodybuilders use; corticosteroids only act to reduce inflammation. And they do it by suppressing the immune system, which means that I'm more likely to catch a cold or get an infection. That doesn't sound very cool...and certainly won't turn me into a he-man babe magnet. Dang. In fact, the side effects listed include weight gain, muscle weakness, and depression.

Well of course. If you're going to get fatter and weaker, there's plenty of reason to get depressed. So I guess it's a tradeoff; I'm sacrificing my Adonis-like awesomeness for the possibility of not hearing imaginary stuff from inside my head. Is it worth it? I'll have to let you know.

In the meantime, I guess the swim team will be glad to know that I won't be experiencing 'roid rage after all...so tomorrow's "Fun Friday" workout won't necessarily be filled with brutality and profanity. (At least no more so than usual.) Since I'll have a suppressed immune system, though, I should probably stay home from work to avoid potential germ contact. I should've gotten the doc to write me a note to that effect.

Oh well, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Wish me luck, and have a great day!