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?
Am I REALLY that weird?
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