No, no, no... not that kind of muscles.
Although I'm starting to wonder if that's what I'll end up looking like, once treatment begins and I have to start taking prednisone to ward off muscle degeneration. You know, prednisone — the same drug that made Jerry Lewis puff up like a french pastry.
The initial diagnosis is in fact Myocitis. Great. I'll hold out a little bit of hope until I have my second opinion at the Lahey Clinic, but everyone seems pretty convinced. In the meantime, it's a juggling act of trying to remain positive, trying to learn as much as possible about this disease, and trying to keep my wife sane through it all. They tell me it's not serious, and then at the same time I get ann emergency referral to the Lahey Clinic in under a day. I wish someone would tell me what the hell is going on.