It’s infusion day. I am SO glad, this month, that it is infusion day.
I’ve probably been pushing too hard (let’s face it, that’s kind of a given).
Stress has been high.
But I think part of why my hands are SCREAMING right now is because I went to the dermatologist. Apparently a tendency to accumulate warts is a thing with RA. Who would have guessed. Shocking I know. But I’ve been acquiring several (they treated 8) and the ones I’ve been acquiring have started to become problematic. So five months ago I got the first available dermatologist appointment I could get. She froze my warts and gave me instructions on what to do as aftercare (soak hands 20 min in the evening… emery boards to file them down… salacitic acid…) . Blisters are a good thing! Nope. The freezing hurt like a… well, you know the rest of that saying… but man, after the pain and stinging of the freezing… the blisters really are hurting.
And… I’m pretty sure that contributed to the flair.
So, I’m sitting here, thanking my lucky stars it is good drugs day… slathering on the Tiger Balm (because it turns out that Voltaren Gel is bad for dogs and I can’t very well wash my hands after I put it on when my hands are what is screaming)… and considering if it was really worth it trying to get the stupid warts under control.
It was. I know it was.
But damn… there are times when I really believe that the cure is worse than the condition in a lot of cases.
I keep thinking things can’t possibly get worse. Eventually life has to start not sucking, right?
Counting down to Thanksgiving and hoping to maybe go to Denny’s… and Giant Eagle for some Turkey legs to smoke on the grill.
It’s the 4th of July 2020. I am so over politics. I am so over Covid 19 and its evolving cousins. I’m over the Murder Hornets and the Meth Gators and being scared all the time.
January is the traditional time of “reset”. And in January I decided that my word for 2020 was going to be JOY. And then February happened… then March happened… then April and May and June. I have been fighting so hard to just maintain any vague semblance of sanity and not falling into a pit of depression.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m on year three of my anti-depressants. And there are days when I really want to message my Dr to see if we can’t adjust the dose. It’s not like I have much to be depressed about. Bear on hospice, knowing that the flu probably put him there. Races being cancelled. Fairs and Disney. Movies at the theater being a thing of the past. The world as we know it changing to one where hate and derisiveness are rampant. Realizing just how polarized things really can get. It’s made this Mary Sunshine pretty much a Debbie Downer for a lot of days.
Then I found 99 Walks.
I’m not even sure how I found it on Facebook, to be perfectly honest. It might have been an ad on my feed. I don’t know. I know whatever it was, I saw the shiny thin bracelet that is your reward for making your walking goal every month and I was hooked on the bling. Ask anyone… I have a crap ton of medals hanging in the window of my office at home. Bling is an awesome motivator. And I needed some heavy duty motivation. Three good things every day for months on end wasn’t doing it. Something had to.
So I went and investigated. There is an app for that (go figure). There is a book. There is a central Facebook group. There are spawned off other Facebook groups. Everyone is so incredibly supportive and friendly. It is my respite from the world. It’s not a magic bullet. I still find myself in a pit with nothing to look at but mud walls and worms kind of frequently. But it is helping.
This month the theme is Joyful Wanderer (did I say that yesterday?). I’m taking this month very much to heart. I’m very mindfully walking. I’m stepping up my game. I’m very determined to get my Joyful Wanderer bracelet.
I’m struggling to get back to Choose Joy.
I’m manufacturing ways to try to trick my brain back into some semblance of who I am because I really really miss being me.
Does that make any sense?
So tonight I’m sitting here waiting on French Fries to be finished cooking, nursing a shoulder that has been flairing for about four days now (it usually doesn’t last this long and I’m really not enjoying it). I’m putting my left hand where I need it to be with my right hand so I don’t move the muscles so much in my left shoulder. I’ve been putting Boo Boo Salve on it pretty regularly (it’s awesome stuff… all natural… a friend of my mom’s makes it… https://www.rainbowskytrading.com/) and adding in the Napproxen at night.
Today we went to the zoo again. It’s coming up close to the Asian Lantern Festival and we wanted to see them in the daylight. That, and the Dinosaur experience is open so… yeah.
It was particularly scary to be out and about today. The state isn’t as bad as Florida or Arizona or California right now… but we are double what we were a month ago and it isn’t looking better any time soon. Our county is the second highest number of Covid cases in the state. The mayor of Cleveland made an executive order that everyone has to wear a mask when they are in a public place.
It was good to see, though, that people were actually wearing masks this week at the zoo.
I worked hard today at mindfully spending time with Bear and Squirrel. It was, altogether, a good day. Pictures to treasure. Memories made.
Should we have gone given everything? Probably not. But we were as careful as we could be. Handsitizer. Clorox wipes. Masks and 6 feet apart (even when it pissed people off that I deliberately would not push Bear’s wheelchair past them when it was too close. Bear says he will die sooner if he can never leave the house. I can’t take everything away.
Starting now I will be starting to use curbside pick up.
Am I scared?
Hell yes
But I can do this. I can’t say this is any kind of new normal… but it my current reality and I have to find myself again.
Today was one walk of 2.6 miles pushing the wheelchair and one walk of 1.2 miles. both were mindful and peaceful.
I’m sitting looking out over the snow in my yard. There is a woodpecker munching on my suet feeder. There are chickadees and titmouses (titmice?) grabbing some of the sunflower seeds from the clear plastic feeder that is stuck to my window. The squirrels are, apparently, huddled in their nests somewhere because they really haven’t been making much of an appearance this morning, yet. It’s really a pretty morning.
I’ve been fighting hard to get completely over the flu from December when… WHAM… Bronchitis from January derails any hope of my January infusion being on time, if happening at all. The antibiotics aren’t really helping an awful lot. My infusion is a week late now… my MTX has been put off for at least last week and this week and probably next week.
This morning, the stress of 70 hour weeks and forgetting to go pee, let alone eat and putting sleep off in the interest of “Git ‘er done” has all contributed, this morning, to my fingers and wrists screaming about whatever has been going on in my body.
Stress is really kicking my behind.
I try not to. Honestly I do. I try meditation. I try not bath. I try walking. I put bird feed into the big giant bird feeder out front, and I kind of melted down in the kitchen on the floor because I could not make my hands get the roof back on the bird feeder.
Stress is RA’s evil insidious little friend… and just when you think it’s safe to take a breath, something happens and your body rebels. Stopping the drugs that make your immune system dumbed down so your body can heal from the sick just pisses off the rest of the immune system and WHAM… it comes screaming back to remind you that it is SO there.
Prednisone… I’m turning to you again… not a huge dose, but one that I really really didn’t want to have to start taking.
Okay… so today we drive up to packet pick-up. I’m hoping for long socks and arm warmers; I’m REALLY hoping for arm warmers (they are really neat). They have a store, go figure.
Last night I finally tried on the pants I’m wearing to race. They fit perfectly. I’m going to hunt up my tights for under them because 40 isn’t warm and they aren’t probably heavy enough for me to be overly happy even racing. But they fit and they are cute. I get my dry fit stuff in my packet today, so I will see what other cute crap I can wear with them.
My fanny pack is almost packed. I have to toss in my iPod and my phone and my camera and I’m good. I have my glovies (electronic compatible ones, naturally) and hand warmers and my own candy canes. Not that I’m terrified of having to face the same lessons that I learned at Run For The Water last year, but… yeah. I pray I don’t have to worry about watching them empty the last two water stations all over the ground as I approach. I hope I get a cookie or two. I hope I get a candy cane… or two. I hope I’m not swept. Even DFL beats DNF. I really really want to finish.
I’m mortified to announce that I actually did start taking my prednisone. Yesterday I took 3 because for two days my left wrist (NOT my problem child) was KILLING me. Right around the Carpal Tunnel place it burned and ached and was horrible. My middle three fingers started to stiffen and ache and I knew it was going to get very not pretty very fast. I hate taking them. I refuse to take them if I have any other options. With the race tomorrow and so much I still have to get done to get ready for Christmas and my project kicking back into high gear… I probably didn’t think as long as I might have done otherwise. But… my Rheumy did give me a script back in the spring when my finger (same hand oddly enough) went totally bat shit crazy on me and gave me a refill. I kept it because I’m scared and it’s a good thing to have on hand. So… I am treating myself and will catch up with my rheumy on Wednesday.
So here I am, up and at em, ready to go to packet pickup. I’m HOPING to spend a few minutes along the lake today taking pictures and enjoying the cold. Eh a girl can dream, can’t she?
And before my kids (on the off chance that either of them actually read this) have a chance to chime in, yeah, I realize that I’m really kind of that weird in MOST ways… but… am I REALLY that out of the norm?
I don’t think I am because I’ve talked to people at work who are “like me” and they are a lot like me.
I have RA. Duh…
I hurt (big shock there). Some days more than others. Some days really nearly approach what I can remember (from half a decade ago… when normal might have been). Some days it really is like someone poured crushed glass into my joints. Most days I ache but I can take enough of the edge off to not let it rule my life.
Thank heavens that I’m not disabled… at least not yet.
I have days when it depresses the crap out of me. Again… duh…
But as a general rule, I figure dwelling on the why me… being debbie downer… why waist what energy I do have on being whiny about it? They say it takes fewer muscles to smile than frown. Fewer muscles, less work. Logic dictates that means that if I smile (even if I don’t FEEL like smiling) it is less work.
Shutting up is less work than bitching.
If I can lose myself in music (irrespective of what the music is that I chose) then I’m losing myself and not getting upset.
I understand that there are times when you really just need to dump on people who understand. Hell, sometimes you just need to dump, it doesn’t matter if it is on someone who understands or not… but I just don’t understand how can anyone spend so much time dwelling on the worst part of their lives?
Maybe I am that weird. I know that when I’m in the middle of a flair, I TOTALLY don’t feel like being mary sunshine. But I keep remembering… Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you are usually right
A Figment Of Fitness 