Something I Want to Talk About
Before I begin, I want to preface this post with the statement that I hope no one interprets this as a huge complaint/whining/bitch session. The one trouble I have with blogging is that so much is lost when we can’t hear the voice of another, and this leads to misinterpretation. If you could hear my voice, you would hear the apprehension and concern I have.
Now, on to what’s bothering me. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis. I’ve lived with this diagnosis for the last nine years ( I was 21 when I was diagnosed). And right now, I’m in the middle of a flare-up. While most days I’m able to do what I want, when I want, I have other days that I can’t. And I’ve not been up to par for the last couple of weeks, and back on the ol’ medication regime.
There have been several very successful medications that are self-administered injections introduced to the market, and so I have hope for treatment as I age. But let me tell you, it’s not pretty. They are freakin’ expensive, and health insurance companies hate on you for it. These things are prescribed in conjunction with another drug called methotrexate. It’s a low dose of chemotherapy. Yes, you read that correctly. Chemo. And steroids. I’m fortunate that it’s nothing like what cancer patients have to tolerate, but nausea, hair loss, and loss of appetite are all there. And I get so damn tired.
The difficulty is in that it interferes with doing the things I love most: digging in the garden, knitting and sewing. It makes my new resolution of self-taught piano very difficult. Even managing the keyboard is a daunting menace. I consider myself an urban homesteader and RA tends to cramp my style. What am I going to do as I get older? What about those chickens and rabbits I daydream about? And the self-sufficient B&B I hope to run in the Texas hill country? I know I just said there are new, great medications available, But what if one day I will never be able to plant seeds for our garden? What if I can’t lift the shovel or rake? What if I can’t knit that hat for my daughter? There are so many activities that I’ve learned to do in different ways so that I will not have to rely on others, but this disease forces me to question it all.
But I can’t give up, right?! Or do I just one day live vicariously through my fellow homesteaders? The thought of only being able to read other peoples’ homesteading blogs makes me want to barf. That thought makes me more nauseated than the medication.
I hope this flare-up backs off quickly. Our last frost date is March 14. And I need to be able to get out there and dig in the dirt. Goodbye stiff and swollen hands. Goodbye painful feet and neck that won’t turn. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. Arthritis has just been served an eviction notice.
Cross your fingers for me- I can’t do it myself right now.