This is me on a good RA day.
This is me today, right now - unkempt, wearing my husband's shirt, pale and sad looking. I'm perched at my desk with a massive blanket covering my cold legs. I'd get dressed but I'm in so much pain and my fingers are so swollen, I'd never manage it without help. And like most days, I'm home alone.
The idea behind this blog was to document how awesomely I kick this disease's ass, but the reality is, it's kicking mine! And it's kicking it hard! So today is the first day of a very real look at what it's like living with chronic illness.
I feel like I've been hit by a truck. It's not even an exaggeration anymore. And this week my self destructing immune system joined forces with my digestion system and decided to make things a lot worse!
You'd think I'd been blessed enough with being slowly crippled by the RA but you'd be wrong. Apparently I need some constipation as well. RA pain meds like to make things worse elsewhere, you see. Only this caused another problem recently that many of us have heard of but probably never really understood the effects of how evil it is (unless you've suffered with it before).
Anal. Fissue.
It feels like I'm sitting on broken glass and trying to go to the toilet is almost a guaranteed fainting experience. I never knew something so small could be so completely awfully. My swollen joints pale in comparison to the pain that has been bestowed upon my bottom!
It would usually be ok because they give you some cream and that will help it. You just bath before you apply it twice a day. Easy! Easy if you can get the lid off in the first place. Easy if you can get in the bath unassisted. These hands can't do shit! I can't do it. I can't do anything. My independence has danced off into the sunset whilst my body is being ravaged by illness and my mind is being held captive. I can't stand it!
And to make this pain party even better, mother nature decided today was a good day to start the heaviest period of one's life.
Needless to say, I am miserable.
I ask myself every night, when will I feel wellish again? At least well enough to get dressed. Or to make some lunch. But each day it just gets worse. I've lost my late twenties to this and it's not looking bright for the future right now. Dwelling in self pity is allowed today... I have my period, afterall. But I'm fighting to stay positive most days now. It's just exhausting. I miss my old body. It was much kinder to me before.
I'm sick of crying about how crappy it all is. I feel like I'm being ungrateful because in the grand scheme of things I'm still a lot better off than many, but you know, turmoil is all relative and I want my blog to be an honest account of my life with the Rheuamtoid Arthritis otherwise what's the point?
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