Tag Archives: Pain

This flare is really getting to me.

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I finally got into the doctor on Thursday.  

“Dr. D, I’m having inflammation and pain in new joints.”

“Like which ones?”

“Um, how does that kids song go?  Oh right, HEAD, SHOULDERS, KNEES AND TOES, KNEES AND  TOES. Ok, maybe not head but also wrists, hips and fingers. And also, I am unable to comfortably do the movements to the aforementioned children’s song right now.”

“Hmmm, and on our last visit I thought you were really starting to show improvement.”

“Sure.”

He examined me and agreed that things have really regressed.  We are pricing out two options with my insurance company- either Remicade or Actemra- and hope to have a final decision made later in the week.

“Is there anything else I can take in the interim?  I’m really having a hard time functioning?”

“Are you not taking the Tramadol I called in for you last week?”

“No, I do not take pain medicine.”  

Yes, you read that correctly. I believe that pain is a good warning sign.  I don’t want to NOT feel pain and then do something that would end up hurting me more.  My pain is caused by inflammation- I want something to treat the inflammation. Does that make sense?  

You should probably also know that I worked in a pain control clinic for two summers in college that coincided with the debut of Oxycontin.   Best job ever for two reasons: HOT RESIDENTS who invited me to attend ‘liver rounds’ with them on Thursday evenings and a handful of our patients were so nuts that I never had a boring day. So even though I may joke about pain meds and laugh about the potential of medicinal marijuana for RA patients, I’m actually pretty adamantly against it on a personal level.   I do realize that I am most likely in a different league of patient than what we saw there: our worst drug seeker was the alcoholic who passed out drunk on the train tracks and lost his legs.  True story- only in the south….

“Well, I don’t want to give you anymore Prednisone- I know you don’t like taking it and I know the problems you’ve had in the past weaning off of it.”

“I’m not asking for Prednisone.  It’s just that I’m taking x Aleve a day to get any relief from the inflammation and I don’t think it’s good for me.”  (imagine eyes bulging out of his head and no, I’m not willing to admit the number but let’s just say there’s a limit in the PDR about how many you can safely take in a day and my intake matched just that.)

So he put me on Mobic.  Not really a fun of it but my stomach likes it better.

I stopped at the vending area to get a Coke before my bloodwork because I didn’t have any breakfast and really thought that passing out during/after bloodwork would be pretty sucktastic.  While I was there, I got to peek into the infusion center.  I was actually pretty impressed- it looked like a “real” infusion center, not like a doctor’s office infusion center.  

Bloodwork was a breeze as usual and I was out the door fifteen minutes later.

I’m feeling a little better tonight after 2 days of good rest, good food, and some serious quality time in the hot tub and steam room at the gym.

And now it’s raining so I think it’s time for me to get in bed and enjoy the sound!

To myself in a flare

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Dear Amanda- In-A-Flare,

Please print this out and carry it with you until your flare subsides.  Just a few observations on your recent behaviors and maybe a few tips to make things easier for you once you’re no longer a whiny b*tch.

-Your home: I know you’re hurting and I know you’re tired but really…it is BAD FOR BUSINESS when it starts to look like an episode of Hoarders.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, just put the dang clothes in the hamper.  Seriously.  This is only a little bit more effort than the floor and you can actually make it fun- aim for the basket.  SLAM DUNK. *imagined people cheering.*

-Your kitchen: Just because you don’t feel good doesn’t mean that you are suddenly Paula Deen cooking up some comfort food.  Nope, you’re Paula Deen getting hit with the ham….Amanda, you can barely boil water.  So don’t put yourself through the stress of “I think I’d feel better if I made myself some corned beef with veggies” because even on the best day YOU ARE COMPLETELY INCAPABLE OF MAKING CORNED BEEF, then you’ll be upset about it, and then you will leave the dishes in the kitchen for days because you don’t feel like cleaning them up.  And then the ants will get them.

-Showers: these should be taken daily.

-Those comfy sweat pants and the shirt with stains on it: should never be worn outside the home.  Also, should never be worn INSIDE the home if people are coming over.

-Other people who piss you off: for the most part are not doing it on purpose. Please take a deep breath or a quick walk before deciding how to respondto them.  Trust me on this one. Also, there is no conspiracy- never has been and probably never will be- so once and for all let this idea go. And finally, I realize you were really upset when that eighteen wheeler blew a retread on the highway directly in front of you.  I realize that it was scary that you had no room to avoid it and were very lucky that you had to run over it and didn’t damage your car.  HOWEVER, the appropriate response was to just stay put in traffic or pull off at the exit.  NEVER EVER EVER should you furiously dial his safe driver line marked on the back of his truck while speeding up and angrily waving the phone at him so he could see what you’re doing.  Please now go back and read that whole conspiracy bit again.

-Your mom: Should not be snapped at because you’re annoyed that she always says methotrOxate rather than methotrexate.  Seriously, you’re being really petty.  She’s asking about it because she cares and is concerned, remember what we just talked about regarding that whole conspiracy thing? 

-Major life decisions: don’t go there.  Just don’t. 

Keep in mind that while things suck right now that there are a lot of people working hard to get you feeling better.  In a month, this will all be a distant memory.

Feel better,

Amanda-Not-In-A-Flare

Just a few thoughts on a Sunday

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This is random and scattered.  Just a warning!

-I got my bill for my joint aspiration last month on Friday.  All in all, total cost of aspiration was about $400, most of which was covered by my insurance.  That’s a miracle.  Especially since it was coded as “in office surgery.” If I’d known I was having “surgery,” I would’ve made some special requests.  Namely that awesome laughing gas I received when they took my wisdom teeth.  

- I went to church with friends this morning.  I’m a bit of a church snob because my grandfather is a Methodist minister.  Let’s just say that Granddad would be none too impressed that I went in jeans and flip flops.  I was kinda weirded out by that too but with how my feet feel lately, flip flops are amazing.  Anyway, the pastor was talking about financial freedom and about how he’s not trying to tell us what to purchase and what not to purchase but rather that we need to make decisions that give us freedom from debt.  So I was bored (I know, it’s wrong to say I was bored at church…but I was) and started thinking about if there are any choices I could make that would give me freedom from RA.  Not freedom by not having it (trying to be realistic here) but freedom by marginalizing it, by “putting Baby in the corner.”  

I realize that I need to make better choices about my health.  I live how I live until I flare and then I get all self righteously indignant on how “I had a salad last week dang-it and it sure did have  lot of veggies and I chose the LOW FAT dressing too because that is how terribly committed I am to my health.”  But come on Amanda: if you were as terribly committed to taking better care of yourself as you say you are when you’re flaring, you would’ve had that salad chock full of veggies more recently than last week!

I do realize there are other things that factor into flares but with this one, I am my own worst enemy.  I am very successful at making dietary changes….for about two weeks.

And before I turn people off by appearing to be anything close to deep or broading, I will tell you that I got the silly giggles during the last song (hymn? is it still called a hymn in a contemporary setting?) when everyone around me was swaying with eyes closed and hands in the air.  

-And finally, you know you’re taking Prednisone when you walk in to pay for your gas and find yourself lustfully eyeing everything “Little Debbie.”  OMG Zebra Cakes.

Back on prednisone

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Why hello to you too, my sworn frenemy.

I love and hate you equally.

I love you because you will give me some relief until my rheumy can get me into to his first available appointment…in June.  (Don’t get me started.)

I hate you because …..well crap, I hate you considerably more than I love you.

I hate you because I only take you when I feel like absolute poo.

I hate you because you prove that it IS indeed possible to gain a lot of weight when you have absolutely no appetite.

I hate you because you make my skin crawl and give me night sweats.

I hate you because you make Aunt Flo come early and give me crazy mood swings. 

Addendum: My coworkers hate you for that second part. And my mom.  And the poor customer service reps at my insurance company.  But let’s be honest- I really don’t care about the feelings of my insurance company, prednisone or not.

I hate you so much that everytime my doctor mentions putting me on you, I cry.

*************************************************************************

Hello frenemy #2.

I do not hate you at all because on Saturday, you will meet YOUR sworn frenemies- full foils and bleach.

Trying and failing to not to take things personally

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I limped in to Starbucks this morning to get my usual coffee and it was a bit more crowded than usual.  I was talking to my boss while I ordered and realized at some point after I told her to ‘hold on’ that I was getting some weird looks because I had my bluetooth in and my hair down.  So it totally looked like I was having a conversation with myself…and answering…and telling myself to wait so that I could order. 

What struck me as strange is that I couldn’t care less that it appeared to many people that I was chatting with the voices in my head. Nope, I was more concerned that they saw me limping.

Lately, I’ve been a little down and out on myself.  Having RA sucks and when you over-analyze things like I tend to do, you make life a whole heck of a lot harder for yourself than it should be.  

This past weekend, I went to my cousin’s wedding.  It took place in Virginia, on the banks of the Shenandoah, and she was beyond beautiful.  

Getting there was a challenge.  I’ve been traveling a TON lately and my RA is not as well controlled as I would like it to be.  I feel lousy. I tell you that because I’m hoping it’s because I’m burning the candle at both ends right now and that it will start behaving again. Like immediately.

Anyway, I only agreed to go to this wedding because I understood it to be a 4 hour drive.

It was a 7 hour drive.  One way.

You should probably also know that I refuse to watch wedding shows and romantic comedies.  Thank you recent heartbreaks.  And that I have avoided a lot of family events in recent years for other reasons.  And that I absolutely cannot stand the thought of anyone in my family noticing any sort of symptoms of RA in me or (gasp) commenting on them.  

So when I arrived at the hotel on Saturday, I sent my hot mess of a self to my room and took full advantage of the whirlpool tub.  It helped considerably both with making me more comfortable and calming me down.  

I arrived at the wedding site with my parents and brother.  Even though I was uncomfortable, I wore heels the whole time with no noticeable limping. 

And then the reception started.

There was really only one comment but it was enough to tick me off for the next three days. I expected a comment about marriage to which I had crafted a catch all response that was very truthful but didn’t give away much and would help me transition the conversation to ANYTHING else.  

But this is what I got:

“So, where’s your boyfriend?”  

“Oh, that was done awhile ago.”

“So where’s the new one?”

“There’s not one right now.  I’m just really focusing on getting myself together and that’ll come when it comes.”  Like it?  I thought it was good?

“You know, physiologically, the best age to have children is at age 19.”

“You know, I think they frown on that nowadays.”

“How old are you?”

“30.”

“Ohhhhhhhh…….”

My sweet grandmother jumped in and redirected the conversation right before I could respond with “so, how is your terminal cancer treating you?”

I stayed for probably another hour, fuming mad the whole time.  When I got back to the hotel, I took another bath and then dreamt about a boy I don’t need to be dreaming about.  And again last night.  And got emails referencing him yesterday and today.  WHAT IN THE WORLD.

He never actually said anything about my RA specifically.

And I have no way of knowing if said family member knows about my RA.  No idea.  He obviously didn’t know I was single.  Which leads me to believe that I’m not high on the family gossip hierarchy.  Which is awesome.  I also have no way of knowing if I would’ve been upset if he hadn’t said that in a way that I could easily link back to my health.  You can probably tell what I tacked on to the end of his sentence.

Thanks to the powers of my analytical skills, I felt like he threw it in my face which I am positive was not his intention.  He’s always been very blunt and not terribly PC but he’s never been malicious. 

I guess I need to get a better deflector statement and I need to have a serious talk with RA: it’s not all about you!

But it still hurts.

I’m tired.

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I’ve had a go go go past few weeks.

I have:

-Spent a week in CA for work. Going to bed at midnight CA time but waking up automatically at 645 NC time does not make RA happy.

-Drank too much tequila my last night in CA and flew back to NC with an extreme hangover.

-Hangover plus stiffness from traveling plus lack of sleep=mini flare.

-Slept for two days. Fitfully because random places keep swelling.

-Went to bluegrass festival in the boonies.  Was the only ‘non-hippie’ there. LOL.  Was made to stand in the back of the bus on ride back to parking area.To quote my friend, “how do you feel being made to stand not just in the back of the bus, but in the back of THIS bus?”  Laughed hysterically and blasted Outkast on the way home. 

-Learned from this situation that even if I’m in a flare, I don’t hurt as bad if I do something I want to do vs something I have to do.  Would this be called selective RA? Ha.

-Hit my highest personal production my office has ever seen.

-Had to deal with some growing pains due to my increased production.  But growing pains because of increased production = good whereas growing pains caused by shrinking production = not good. 

-Stress from high production and growing pains = skipping lunch, not drinking enough water, increased fatigue.  Continued random pains.

-Found out our company’s chief sales officer (who is kind of scary…but very nice in person) would be spending a day with me….the day before she got there….and wanted to go with me on several client appointments. No stress.  While dealing with a mini flare.

-Pulled said appointments out of my rear.  Still not quite sure how I did that with such big prospects and such little notice.  Mini flare became ‘congratulatory flare.’

-Screwed up my Humira injection- it clicked like it normally does when it’s done.  It was not.  Spraying approximately $1200 worth of Humira all over your kitchen is not good for flare.  Or temper.

-Had my direct supervisor in town Monday – Wed this week.  Direct supervisor is a hoot but a horrible driver.  I thankfully did not get carsick.  Again.  Jolting around in a car for three days is not good for mini flare.

This weekend, I head to my cousin’s wedding.  If you don’t sense excitement, you may be correct.  Nothing against my cousin.  I love her and I’m very happy for her. But the last thing I want to do is to spend more time in a car, more time on my feet, making small talk dodging questions about both RA or why I’m still single at a dry wedding with vegan meal options in a barn in the middle of nowhere.  For real.

I need a massage.  And a break. 

Goodnight!

Joint Aspiration Follow-Up

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The joint aspiration of my left pointer finger occurred approximately a week and a half ago.  

Here are some pre and post pictures for you.

What my left pointer finger typically looks like:

What my left pointer finger looked like immediately post medical assault (note the red puncture marks on the left side, sexy RA nodule on the right):

What my left pointer finger looked like 5 days post medical assault:

Doesn’t it look so different from before?  Doesn’t it look so much better?

Yes, I don’t think so either.  Moving on…

And then, on Thurs (about 9 days after) something happened.

I was sitting at my computer typing when I realized that typing didn’t hurt me.  Not even a little bit!  I looked down…

Hello almost normal sized left pointer finger joint!  How are you?  I haven’t seen you in ages…like 4 years.  Have you lost weight?  Because I recall you looking like a sausage and now you’re rather hot dog like.  You look GREAT! I am ECSTATIC to see you!

Having an almost normal sized joint in that finger is both a blessing and a burden.  I’m very self conscious about how it looks when it’s so swollen so the blessing is to have it looking normalish right now.  It’s a burden because at normal size, I have more of an idea of what I’m dealing with in terms of loss of use and joint destruction.  

I still can’t bend it all the way.

Nor can I fully straighten it.

It just kinda hangs there, somewhat useless.

What usually feels so swollen now just feels weak.

The nodule looks like it’s gone but I can still see it when I bend the finger.

I’m not sure if it can be ‘rehabbed’ at all or not.  I may not be able to straighten it because I have absolutely no muscle tone left.  That I can fix.  I may not be able to straighten it because I have so much joint damage.  That I cannot.  I think that it’s most likely the second option but when I go back to the rheumatologist in a few weeks, I plan on asking.

I’ve had a few pity parties the past few days over the thought of having that much joint damage but I guess it just is what it is.  If I hadn’t had the aspiration, it would’ve continued to be swollen and it would’ve continued to erode the joint.  And when the joint was so swollen, it was basically useless to me anyway.  Which means I shouldn’t be upset about it but really doesn’t make it any easier to look down at it and seeing it looking almost normal yet not capable of doing what  I need it to do.

First Joint Aspiration: I did not die.

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Today I am typing with one hand because yesterday I had my first joint aspiration and cortisone injection into my left pointer finger. And yes, it was just as much fun as it sounds like, maybe even more.

At my rheumatologist appointment last month, he mentioned that he may be doing this at this month’s appointment if my finger didn’t look better.  Actually, he mentioned he might be doing this on two fingers so I guess I lucked out? 

Sure. 

So, as he was examining my hands I wasn’t surprised when he said he needed to do one.  I figured that it would be one of those things like “sure, let’s do one.  Talk to the scheduler and we’ll set you up to come back for it.”  That way, I’d have at least a few days to either wrap my brain around it or find a way to get out of it.  So when I said that  I would be out of town the rest of the week but could do it next week I was a bit surprised when he responded ‘that’s great that you’ll be out of town- because we’re doing this right now.”  He stood up, fetched some supplies out of the cabinet and started prepping the needles.

“Put your hand on the table and sit on the stool.”

GULP. 

He pushed and pushed on my finger with his hands, I assume trying to assess where he was going to go in from, which really really hurt. 

Then he finished up his prep work- one large syringe with a large needle that he would use for the aspiration and one smaller syringe and needle that he filled with a whitish liquid (cortisone).

“Ok, I’m ready.  You ready?”

NO!  I’m NOT ready.  I don’t let ANYONE touch my left hand so WHY ON EARTH would you EVER think that I’m ready for you to stick a needle in it? Being “ready” for this to happen is a day that will never come.  The better question would’ve  been “have you come to terms with the fact that I am the expert here and this really is the best thing for you” or “are you sure you won’t haul off and pop me when the needle goes in?”

I quietly shook my head yes and told myself to look away.

He sprayed my finger with the numbing agent and I didn’t feel the needle go in.

Gosh, those are some great mini blinds.  Are they plastic or are they wooden?  I prefer wooden but plastic is more affordable and in some cases easier to keep clean.  And a lot of the plastic blinds can be made to look like wood.  I wonder if I could afford plantation shutters right now.  I like plantation shutters. Wow, I’m doing it.  This isn’t so baa……  WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DIGGING AROUND IN THERE? Mini blinds, mini blinds, MINI BLINDS.  IT FEELS LIKE THE NEEDLE IS COMING OUT THE OTHER SIDE,.  Great, then I can put an earring through it- maybe a bull ring- as if my finger doesn’t look freakish enough- LET’S PIERCE THE DAMN THING.

“Ok, I’m done aspirating.  Now the cortisone.”

Ok, aspiration kinda sucked but I hear cortisone feels great once it’s done.

HOLY HELL.  I THINK MY FINGER IS GOING TO EXPLODE.  No really, actual explosion.  Joint, finger meat, and blood- coming at you in just a minute.  OH MY GOD. 

“Please stop.”

“It’s ok, I’m done.”

“I can’t bend my finger at all.  Is it supposed to do that?”

“Yes, I couldn’t aspirate as much as I wanted so you can’t bend your finger because it’s full of cortisone.  It’ll go down quickly.  Let me get you another bandaid.”

As I stood up, I realized that there was visible sweat on the table from where I had my other hand resting. 

“So, this will go down- it’ll probably be a little tender for 48 hours and you probably won’t be able to bend it for the rest of the day.  I couldn’t aspirate as much as I wanted which probably means that the joint lining is now really thick.  The cortisone should make it go down though so we’ll look at it again next time.  We may have to do it again, on this finger and possibly on the other one.  But I won’t make you do the other one today.”

Damn right you won’t.

And, drama queen tendencies aside, I don’t think it’ll be as scary next time.

A Day in The Life

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6:45 AM:  Alarm starts buzzing and gets a swift (albeit soft due to RA fingers) whack to the snooze button.

6:55 AM:  Alarm buzzes again.  Swift soft whack repeated.

6:59AM:  Cat slinks into room, jumps on bed, and meows to say “for real, already, I NEED FOOD.”

7:05AM:   Combination of alarm and needy cat avert whack to snooze button and I groggily rise and assess cat bowl situation. I catch myself walking gingerly because I’m not sure how my feet feel yet to see that there is plenty but she demands a top off.  Occasionally, opening the lid of the container hurts. But what can I say…she’s a little diva.

7:10AM: Shower – problems opening shampoo and conditioner bottles which has influenced brands that I buy. Initial daily assessment of my aches and pains. 10 fingers, only 2 or 3 sore  = success. 10 fingers, 8-10 hurting = bad mood. Same with toes, knees, shoulders,wrists although I only have 2 of the last three mentioned.  Having 10 of the last three would not be bad mood but rather inevitable reality show stardom.

7:15AM: Hair drying, makeup application, clothing selection, longing glances back at the bed.  Minor difficulties with sharpening eyeliner with little pencil sharpener, sometimes picking a different pair of pants or shirt depending on condition of fingers and tightness of buttons.  Occasional difficulties on bad mood days with opening and squirting out toothpaste.  On really really bad days, it hurts running my fingers through wet tangled hair.  Thankfully, that hasn’t happened in quite awhile. Knock on wood.

7:30AM:  Breakfast time.  Usually soy yogurt.  No difficulties here unless you consider the lack of variety of soy yogurt available in the Charlotte metro area a difficulty.  (I would like flavors other than strawberry and blueberry and I hate fruit on the bottom.  But that’s all I can ever find.  In 3 different grocery stores.)

7:45AM: Time to head to work.  Minor difficulties in locking both front and back door.  When it’s cold, I can’t lock the deadbolt on the back so I lock the switch on the outer back door (which is actually more secure- found this out the day I locked myself out and a locksmith couldn’t get it open) and always difficult to turn the key in the deadbolt on the front.

7:55 8:05AM:  Arrive at work.  If I’m the first person there, opening this lock is always difficult.  Luckily, I’m never the first one there. 

8:00AM – 12:00PM: Meetings with clients, sales calls, admin work, conference calls.  Occasional problems on bad mood days with the following: typing, assembling presentation handouts, sending emails on Blackberry, fatigue, walking long distances on client site tours.  Minor difficulties every day with pulling and putting files up into tightly packed file cabinets, discomfort caused in knees by sitting in same position for too long, aching shoulders from sitting at desk.

12:00PM – 1PM: LUNCH.  No difficulties here.

1PM- 5PM:  Meetings with clients, sales calls, admin work, conference calls.  Occasional problems on bad mood days with the following: typing, assembling presentation handouts, sending emails on Blackberry, fatigue, walking long distances on client site tours.  Minor difficulties every day with pulling and putting files up into tightly packed file cabinets, discomfort caused in knees by sitting in same position for too long, aching shoulders from sitting at desk.

5PM- 6PM:  End of day meetings/conference calls/ occasional networking events/ drive home.  Occasional problems on bad mood days with peeling and sticking name tags on myself at networking events and also fatigue.  Minor difficulties every day with unlocking front door.

6PM- 10PM:  Dinner with friends, Happy Hour, dinner at home, gym, and other miscellaneous events.  A lot of times, the gym gets cut.  I’m most comfortable on the elliptical- good range of motion exercise for joints if you take it easy on resistance.  Difficulties with grasping free weights- I’m learning how to use the machines. Still afraid to try classes. Minor difficulties with cooking- it’s uncomfortable to grasp a knife to cut, inability to exert force to open jars, nervous to lift heavy baking dishes in and out of oven with hot pad due to not feeling like I’m able to grasp baking pan as well with hot pad. Fatigue is an occasional problem with all above except Happy Hour.  There is no fatigue in Happy Hour.  (Said with same intonation that Tom Hanks uses in A League of Their Own when he says ‘there’s no crying in baseball.”)

10:15PM: Wash face, take meds.  Minor difficulties opening pill bottles. 

10PM:  TV time in bed with feline.  Occasional problems getting comfortable with shoulders and wrists depending on if/where cat chooses to lay on me.  Occasionally discomfort caused by this makes sleeping impossible.  End of day assessment of aches and pains. 

Wash, rinse, repeat.

I’m a little sad that I can’t remember any other way now…

But I still feel very blessed.

Spring Cleaning Confession

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Oh the things you find when you are cleaning out the closet!  And oh the things you get attached to and probably should get rid of but just can’t bring yourself to do so! 

I will be the first to admit that I sometimes get very attached to random bizarre things. A certain Lion King coffee cup I’ve had since middle school that was my first foray into “I’m so grownup that I’m going to drink coffee and be an adult dammit and you’re going to recognize it”, a pair of white denim capris that I would never wear anymore but were my “skinny” pants and keep to try on to keep myself in check, and then these…

When I was first experiencing symptoms, these were the only things that were comfortable.  And wear them I did as evidenced by the fact that they can now “smile” at you.

They were purchased as a gag Christmas gift from my brother right before he went to Iraq.  And let me tell you, I was even more attached to a number of things he gave me while he was there.  One of them being a ficus tree.  No lie.  I guess to me that if I kept them close to me (and kept the tree alive) that I felt like he wasn’t so far away and that he would be ok.  After he got back, I let the tree die and definitely lost attachment to the other things I had kept close.

But I still couldn’t get rid of these silly slippers.

Slippers logo’d with a team I don’t really root for.  Slippers with a good two inches of foam built into them.  Slippers that made my early time with RA a little more bearable.  Slippers that made me the butt of jokes with my friends.  Slippers that I haven’t worn in quite awhile because I’m not in pain anymore. Slippers that obviously mean something to me…but I’m just not sure what.

Slippers that I just put back in the closet.