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A prescription for a very Merry Christmas

The holidays are almost over, and you're probably exhausted from cooking, visiting, and pulling pine needles from your toes. I did all that, too, but I'm not tired.

The holidays are almost over, and you're probably exhausted from cooking, visiting, and pulling pine needles from your toes.

I did all that, too, but I'm not tired.

You know why?


Not even kidding.

And it's all legal.

Let me explain.

We begin three weeks before Christmas, when I start to get a sore throat. Like every woman during the holidays, I ignore it and soldier on, but my throat gets worse and worse. Every day, I think I should call the doctor, but I tough it out like a Mommy Martyr.

Yes, mothers make the best martyrs.

It starts with labor.

Actually, men thought up the name labor, because Torture & Genital Mutilation doesn't look as good on a hospital door.

Anyway, I got sick before Christmas, my throat on fire, my head in the proverbial vise, and I felt horrible, head-to-toe. But of course I waited too long to call the doctor. Their offices were closed for the weekend, so I went to Patient First.

A doctor you can see on the spot? Incredible. I have to wait two weeks to get my hair highlighted.

Scottoline First!

Anyway, at Patient First, I'm diagnosed with strep throat. They give me antibiotics to go home with, but - long story short - I checked in at my regular doctor later, and he prescribed something magical:


As in methylprednisone.

Which cured me instantly.

Or, more accurately, made my sickness beside the point. I felt no symptoms at all. My throat felt great, my head cleared, and I went from being sick to well in a blink.

Holidays, here I come!

I was supposed to take six pills the first day, and by pill two, I had the energy of 10 lords a-leaping and nine ladies dancing.

It was like the 12 days of Christmas, chemically enhanced.

I was ready to plant a Christmas tree, grow it, saw it myself, decorate it, and take it down.

I started and finished all my shopping. I signed and sealed all my holiday cards. I wrapped all my gifts. I cleaned the house. I did the laundry. I reorganized my office.

My garden room isn't completely finished being constructed, but I moved furniture into it anyway. I stopped when I realized four windows were missing.

I noticed only because the cold blew through my Superwoman cape.

Turns out steroids are just what women need during the holidays.

It was like the magic pill in Limitless.

(It's all about Bradley Cooper, isn't it?)

I had no idea whether my throat hurt because I'd never felt so good in my life. It was like a combination of Advil, Robitussin, and crack cocaine.

Per the instructions, I took two of the pills before bedtime - obviously the prescription of Dr. Satan. You can't take two steroids before bed and sleep anytime this century.

I lay wide awake, but it didn't matter.

I outlined the plots of three novels.

In my head.

Now all I have to do is fill in the blanks.

It's like Mad Libs for addicted authors.

I admit, I may have been a little edgy, but even that had a good side, like when I lined up the dogs for a Christmas photo and they sat on cue, obeying me for the first time ever.

Nobody wanted to make Holiday Hulk angry.

So, bottom line, here we are at the new year, and, as you may remember, I don't make resolutions because they're always so negative, as in here's something I hate about myself that I need to change.


I prefer to keep it positive, so I invented unResolutions, in that here's something I like about myself that I resolve to keep doing.

And you know what that is?

Steroids, every December from now on.

Happy New Year!

Look for Lisa and Francesca's new humor collection, "I've Got Sand in All the Wrong Places" and Lisa's novel "Damaged" in stores now. Also look for Lisa's new domestic thriller, "One Perfect Lie," coming in April.