Rheumatoid Arthritis, Writing

Accepting Help

I was separated from my husband in 1987 and we were divorced in 1991. I never remarried. Needless to say, I got somewhat used to doing things for myself. Independence runs deep within me. The idea that I can do it myself without help from anyone.

My brother moved in with me 14 years ago and he was a jack-of-all-trades, able to fix, repair or create just about anything needed around a house. His presence delayed the idea that my independence was slipping away as rapidly as my body’s ability to perform everyday tasks. I could lie to myself and convince myself that I didn’t need any help for ordinary things.

Then, my brother died and left me alone with my disabilities. My body has violently betrayed me in so many ways recently. That betrayal is rheumatoid arthritis, which is uncontrolled. I cannot walk very far, and I have trouble getting dressed, doing laundry, dishes, dusting, or vacuuming. Any big things, like mowing the grass, fixing the broken dryer, or replacing the kitchen faucet doesn’t happen unless I ask for help.

Photo by Rémi Walle on Unsplash

I cannot turn to my family because no one lives near me, so I have to rely on friends. Fortunately, I have some excellent friends who help me. One mows my grass and trims my trees. One drives me to doctor’s appointments and to grocery stores. All that is required is for me to ask.

And that is the hard part. Maybe this will get easier with practice because my arthritis will not go away.

Blog Entries, Rheumatoid Arthritis

On The Mend. I Hope.

I have been suffering from rheumatoid arthritis for many years and recently, I had a flare-up that has lasted for several months. The flare-up started just as my original rheumatologist flew the coop to greener pastures and left me without medical support. It took nearly six months to get in to see the new rheumatologist.

Then, after her tests and blood work, it took another two weeks before the diagnosis was in: rheumatoid arthritis. Well, duh! Well, to be precise, uncontrolled rheumatoid. Well, duh!

At any rate, I went back to the orthopedist, who gave me a cortisone injection in my hip joint and promised that after 2 or 3 days, my hips would feel much better. He was right. My hip does feel better. In all fairness, he did a really nice job of giving me the injection. No shot feels great, but this time, I barely felt the needle when he inserted it. I felt the pressure when he injected the cortisone. But, in 30 seconds, he was finished and I was left with a HUGE purple and black bruise.

I had read somewhere that a person can only feel pain in one place at a time. Or to be more precise, if a person is feeling severe pain in one place, other pains will be less noticeable. All that to say, yes, my hip feels better, but now, my fingers, toes, feet, ankles, elbows, and knees ache from the uncontrolled rheumatoid arthritis.

My doctor has prescribed a round of drugs that could help with the inflammation. I hope she is correct and I can get back to living.

Because my joints are so inflamed, she told me to NOT exercise. Okay, Doc, if you insist. We have to get the inflammation under control so I don’t damage my joints with exercise. Once the damage is done, it cannot be undone.

So now, we wait.

My Life

I Finally Met a Real Doctor

After waiting for over six months, I finally got in to see a Rheumatologist. While I impatiently waited, my hip hurt worse and worse to the point it was difficult to walk and the pain frequently made me cry. When the doctor came into the room, I almost kissed her and offered to raise her children.

Photo by Eben Kassaye on Unsplash

This lady was VERY thorough with her exam, meaning she stuck her fingers in every one of my joints and every muscle to find out which ones are actually inflamed and how badly. The preliminary diagnosis was I have arthritis, but maybe not rheumatoid. I also have fibromyalgia and something I had never heard of: Joint Hypermobility Syndrome or possibly Ehler-Danlos Syndrome. I proved it by bending my knees backward and touching my thumb to my wrist. Apparently, that is not normal. She also told me that I have that “soft, velvety skin that is very stretchy.” It is a problem with proteins and collagen. Well, crap!

Other than mild exercise and medication, nothing can be done for either one. The downside is either condition causes early onset arthritis. Plus, there is the fibromyalgia issue. And the arthritis issue.

So this doctor, after her 2-hour exam, sent me for some blood work. I gave the slip of paper to the lady at the lab and she proceeds to grab 11 vials to fill with blood. That’s right. ELEVEN. My first thought was I had somehow been transported to Transylvania. She looked at the paper, double-checked everything, and announced that 11 was correct. I asked her if she was planning to frame me for murder or just do several blood tests.

Eleven vials of blood later, I staggered out of the lab and had to hang on to the nearest lamppost to step down from the curb. The vampire did tell me to make sure to eat something as soon as I could.

But my day wasn’t over. I then went to the Imaging Center for X-rays under the tender care of Kristy (or Kristi), a perky little lady who looked 16 and had, wait for it, pigtails. Braided pigtails. Seriously. At one point during X-raying various parts of my body, she said, “Put the bottoms of your feet together and drop your knees open as wide as you can.” I must have given her an incredulous look, because she then asked, “Can you do that?”

Photo by Owen Beard on Unsplash

I replied, “NO! Look Kristy (or Kristi), I have a very painful hip. What you are asking is impossible today.”

“Well, I will have to take two images rather than one.”

“That’s okay. Just walk on over there and press that button twice. Then, we will both be happy.”

Then, she made that noise that always made me want to roundhouse kick my kids. “HHUUHH.”

“Whatever,” I responded. I wasn’t in the mood for emo-girl’s theatrics because the exam from the doctor already left me feeling like I was run over by a bus and I was woozy from blood loss. All I wanted at that point was to get to the pharmacy to get my fingers around the drugs my doctor prescribed and then eat a Big Mac right before taking a nap until dawn.

But after 24 hours of prednisone, I am already feeling better.

Humor, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Writing

Cause and Effect

I went to a doctor yesterday to find out why my hip is hurting. I have been dealing with this for a couple of months and I finally decided that maybe I needed some professional help because people are getting tired of hearing my involuntary pterodactyl screech every time I stand up or sit down. Plus, I have finally gotten really grouchy about this whole my-life-would-be-great-if-I-didn’t-have-hips routine I go through every day.

I have been dealing with Rheumatoid Arthritis for quite sometime and I assumed that the hippy pain was because of that. Exercise makes my joints feel better, but exercise is a delicate balancing act of doing just enough to feel better. One leg lift too many and I am in more agony for 3-4 days. Therefore, off to a doctor to find out what can be done.

Photo by Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz on Unsplash

Meanwhile, back in the gym… I have been “babying” my hip and now my knees have started to hurt. Somehow, I find it difficult to see how my situation has improved.

Hence, my visit to the doctor–Dr. Eye-Candy if you are interested, because I firmly believe if one must visit a doctor, then visit a very pretty one and Dr. Eye-Candy is so very pretty. Dr. Candy tells me my knees hurting is because of normal wear and tear. Okay. But what about my hip?

Dr. Candy says, “You have arthritis, but what you don’t have is any cartilage left. Your bones are scraping together. However, we can’t do a hip replacement until you have lost about 5000 pounds. Just sayin'”

Me: What has caused this unfortunate cartilage losing episode?

Dr. Candy: Normal wear and tear. Your hip pain is normal.

Me: You have got to be kidding me. It is not normal for someone to scream in agony when they sit and normal to scream in agony again when they stand up? I mean, I have been waiting to see you for nearly forty-five minutes and plenty of people stood up and sat down and there was barely any screaming at all.

Dr. Eye-Candy:…..

Me: So, how is this normal?

Dr: It is normal for someone with RA (rheumatoid arthritis).

Me: So, what do we do?

Dr: Eventually, hip replacement, but not until you lose 50,000 pounds.

Me: It went from 5000 pounds to 50,000? That’ll take more than a minute. What do I do in the meantime? Screech in agony on a regular basis?

Dr: No. We can give you cortisone injections. But cortisone injections will make you gain weight.

Me: Kinda going in the wrong direction there, Doc.

Dr: Really, it will make you feel better… we think.


Dr: All we have to do it stick a big needle in your hip…

Me: Now wait just a cotton picking minute. How can sticking a big needle in my hip make it feel better?

Dr: It just will.

OK. Maybe he isn’t big on explanations, but he certainly is pretty to look at. Also, he is fun to argue with. These young pretty doctors have no clue and are totally lost when they encounter a fully mature adult female. So, instead of sticking a big needle in my hip, and after much debate and forced explanations, I opted for a change in oral medication.

Now, we wait.

Photo by Stefano Pollio on Unsplash