According to my girlfriend my skin glows when I’m on the prednisolone. I’m guessing this is a good thing. I presume she doesn’t mean I glow in the same way as someone with a Chernobyl postcode might. No, I think she means my face is silky smooth and blemish-free like a newborn babe’s. Still manly, of course, very rugged in fact, like chiselled granite, an Easter Island statue sort of thing. But softer. More lustrous. And I suppose if caught in a certain light my skin might give one the impression that I own and regularly use moisturiser. A good moisturiser at that. With a French name probably. Expensive. None of that cheap muck that you get in a sachet stuck inside FHM. I mean, now I’m thinking about it my skin is very good right now. It does look healthy. Which is slightly ironic given the fact it’s all entirely due to chemicals and has nothing to do with clean living at all. It’s the pred that makes my skin pretty. It also stops me shitting seven times a day. And whilst I really don’t like the idea of being drug dependent, I’d much rather pop a few pills than have to keep popping to the toilet. I am reducing my dose by 5mg every two weeks, and hopefully this time at the end of it all I’ll come off the prednisolone for good. Until then though, I’m going to enjoy my lovely glowing skin and all the compliments it brings.