Wellness Contract Update

Alternate title:  The post where my writing makes my lawyer friends cringe.

(Address withheld)

23 February, 2011

(Address withheld)

Dear Amanda:

You are hereby put on notice that as of 23, February 2011, you are in breach of our contract dated 13 January, 2011. The nature of said breach is:

-Consumption of more than 3 glasses of wine per seven day period beginning on a Sunday during the period of 13 January- 23 February, 2011 bordering on perceived mocking of said contractual clause.

-Consumption of three jars of Tostitos medium queso WITHIN A THREE DAY PERIOD.  Also, over consumption of “comfort foods” during a cold.  Contract to be modified to allow some comfort foods but never again will daily meals consist of pancakes, grilled cheese, and baked spaghetti.  Boo hoo hoo…you didn’t feel good…NONE OF THESE ARE GLUTEN FREE.

-Blatant disregard for physical activity or cleaning provision of contract.  BLATANT disregard.

It is our desire to inform you of the foregoing and demand that you cease and desist the above behaviors to cure said breach. You are already being held responsible for all damages arising from said breach in the form of increased joint pain due to the introduction of gluten and alcohol into your body, increased fatigue due to glutens and lack of physical activity, loss of favorite clothing due to inability to put up laundry leading to you not being able to find a damn thing, and lost opportunities to regain strength and increase mobility through responsible exercise.  You may be held responsible for additional damages arising from said breach.

You have until 23 March, 2011 to cure said breach, after which we will be forced to further recognize that your own decisions are in no way helping your health.

Regards,

Amanda

Here we go

So I am a slacker blogger as of late…I am sorry!  I got back from Cali and got super sick- a cold turned sinus infection turned bronchitis.  Two rounds of antibiotics later and I’m slowly on the mend.

Isn’t being sick on immuno-suppressant medication SO. MUCH. FUN?  Not only can my body turn a piddly little cold into not one BUT TWO other illnesses but then the cold and two other illnesses decide to grab beers, play trivia, get more beers, play some darts, do some shots, hit the dance floor and just in general take their sweet time in leaving me.

Geez,  Walk of shame it away already!

Anyways, I’m in the midst of regrouping, refocusing on the diet and starting in on the next plan.

Funny story before I tell you the plan.  I was cleaning and organizing my hall closet the other night.  I went to get something out of the other closet and when my socked feet hit the hardwood floors, I fell hard.  I was not close enough to grab on to anything except that I was close enough to the ottoman that I drug my nose down the side of it the whole way down.

Excellent.

After assessing that my nose was NOT bleeding and  that I did not have visible ottoman burn, I slowly sat up and examined my hip, knees, and hands.  I was sore, yes, but nothing seemed wrong beyond that.

Falling with RA is always an issue.  Falling for me, since I’ve been flaring constantly since April, has been a fear for months.  A major fear.  I just don’t feel as physically strong as I was a year ago.  In fact, I haven’t felt this weak since I was initially diagnosed.  I know I’ll get the strength back but until then, it’s just kinda scary.

So it happened and I did not die.  Good to know!

So, back to the plan.  I found out that I was NOT on the placebo in my study but was actually on Enbrel.  A surprise, yes, because it did nothing for me.  So I am now going to be starting Remicade which I’m terrified of.  I will start most likely next Wednesday since I have most of the week off.  I don’t really care if it makes me nauseous because I despise turkey so it will have no bearing on my Thursday plans.  I know, I’m a sucky American.

Why am I terrified?  I’m not afraid of needles.  I think it’s just the thought of it.  People only get infusions if they’re really sick. And I just don’t want to classify myself that way because when it’s under control, I’m fine.

So if I can fall which is something that can really seriously injure me and be fine, then certainly infusions can’t be that bad, right?

What’s next

It was a beautiful day here today and I treated myself to an hour long walk through the park and my neighborhood.

I have to bribe myself to walk lately- I think a summer of laying on my rear thanks to a flare has killed my motivation.  A couple weeks ago I figured out how to stream Pandora radio on my phone (my Ipod is MIA).  So I type in ‘old school rap’ and walk through the neighborhood repressing my urge to start dancing and feeling like a badass.  A badass who limps.

Can I please call that my pimp gimp?

Anyways, I was almost home this afternoon and a good song came on which necessitated an extra lap around the block.  Because, you know, it’s just not as much fun to listen to a good song sitting still!  In the course of that extra block, my left knee and left foot decided to mutiny.

I still haven’t been able to figure out how I can go from just fine to noticeably swollen in a matter of minutes.  It’s cruel.  It’s also evidence to me that I’m still having a lot of disease activity…

I have my last drug study appointment tomorrow.  I will find out what medication I’ve been on although I already am convinced that I’m on the placebo.  Why, you ask?  Because it hasn’t done a damn thing for me.  I feel like I’ve felt before- on the receding end of a really bad flare.  I remember how I felt the first time I took Humira and while I don’t expect to feel such a difference everytime, I would expect to feel improvement.  And I haven’t.  So…the drug study wasn’t beneficial but it also wasn’t harmful.

So what’s next?  My doctor wants to look at infusions. Specifically Remicade.  I want to try Enbrel first for a couple of reasons.  It would be so much easier for me to inject myself once a week than to go for a periodic three hour infusion.  Infusion therapy also really scares me.  I don’t want to try it until I’ve exhausted all easier resources.  I realize that sounds silly.

I’m a little frustrated.  From a lab-work perspective, my doctor says “you look great.”  I’m still seronegative which baffles me but my doctor doesn’t seem to think that is significant.  My CRP has dropped.  On paper, everything is better.  But physically, I’m still not where I was months ago.  My feet and knees are still bothering me.  My shoulder is too.  Remember that hellishly awful joint aspiration awhile back?  That ended up being a bust. Finger= just as swollen as it was before.  The fatigue is better but the nausea can still be a tad bit on the ridiculous side.  I’ve always had a sensitive stomach but it’s getting to be a running joke with my friends.  And if a certain coworker makes one more pregnancy/morning sickness joke, I may need help hiding a body.

Stay tuned- I will be sure to let you know if (when) I’m right about the drug I’ve been receiving and what the plans moving forward will be.

Hiking and Horses

One of two lengthier updates so bear with me!  Lots going on! Let’s start with the Labor Day update which was supposed to accompany the pictures I posted closer to actual Labor Day.

It was a great mountain vacation- great friends, great food, great hot tub that got completely overloaded with too many people, and overcoming some fears to do some activities that I used to do quite a lot.

Exhibit A: Hiking

Ok, ok, ok…so I don’t really CARE for hiking too much.  Growing up, my dad’s idea of hiking was ‘let’s carry all sorts of crap in heavy backpacks and spend a week living like our ancestors did off of the land.’  He’d always try to con me into it by mentioning how much I loved the computer game Oregon Trail.  But no matter how cool it would be to walk into a store and say ‘I’d like to buy $1400 worth of bullets…and an axle,” I can’t forget that all my Oregon Trail people always died of dysentary.

Anyways.

So I’d compromise with him for this trail near our house. Not too hilly, not too flat, not many roots,we’d catch up, he’d get to be outside, I’d get to not die of dysentary, and an hour later, on the way home we’d sometimes get ice cream.

And then RA happened and I haven’t done it since.

I was nervous on Saturday when my friends announced that the plans for the day included an almost 2 mile hike.  For the record, I’ve done multiple 5K’s since this happened.  Would I give a 2 mile walk in my neighborhood a second thought? No. I’d be confident at this  distance on any flat terrain without roots to watch for.  But this particular trail is very uphill, very uneven ground, and lots of roots. I had visions of tripping on a root and falling forward to catch myself with my worthless hands, and really getting hurt.  The area is also a tad bit isolated and I didn’t feel like it had a good ‘escape route.’  Donner Pass much?

You don’t know you can’t do this until you try it and can’t do it. You have no basis for this whole root anxiety especially because your biggest guy friend is on the trip and you can make him walk with you and catch you if you need it. You probably won’t need it. If something happens you know your friends won’t have to kill you and use you for food because it’s not even winter yet. If you successfully complete it, you can buy those black and pink plaid rain boots you’re having hard time finding a reason to justify buying.

I am proud new owner of black and pink rain boots. And for the record,  nothing hurt afterward except my butt = not a joint.

Exhibit B:  Horseback Riding

I grew up riding horses.  LOVE it.  One of my favorite family vacations growing up was a horseback trip around the Grand Tetons.  If you’ve ever even seen pictures of how beautiful it is out there, just imagine how beautiful riding through them on the back of a horse is.  Surreal.

I quit riding when I hit high school for dancing.  I continued dancing in college- with boys at parties. The closest I came to horseback riding in college was this one time I contemplated riding a mechanical bull in a country line dance bar outside of Knoxville.  For the record, I did not.

So when I found out that a couple of the girls on the trip wanted to go riding, I was PUMPED.  I had visions of myself yet again flying through the mountains on this beautiful horse in beautiful crisp early fall weather.  I was GIDDY.  I googled several places, narrowed down the list, and called the final contenders.  I emailed the information to the interested parties.

And then I remembered the closest I ever came to getting hurt on a horse.  I was really little and I somehow cued my horse to canter (similar to a gallop).  I wasn’t expecting it and I almost fell off.  And then I remembered how my friend Lisa fell off her horse when we were 12- she hurt her back and broke her nose.

I went ahead and paid my deposit to reserve the horse but didn’t commit to doing it until I got there and saw that it was a slow, guided ride on a very broken in trail.  I was a tad disappointed in that- I wanted to RUN- but even with the slow pace, I was really nervous the first few times the horse lurched.

Exhibit C:  Getting Tricked Into Hiking A Longer and Hillier Distance

With two successes under my belt, I felt more confidant.  So when we were on our way back and a friend asked if I was ok with stopping to do a hike along the Blue Ridge Parkway, I was immediately game. (Graveyard Fields for those who may be interested.)  I was even more game when I inquired as to the distance and was told less than a mile.

Yes!  I LOVE hiking!

We headed down the paved walkway to the Falls which were indeed less than a mile from the car.  They were beautiful- really cool looking rocks- and we all took our shoes off and soaked our feet in the freezing cold water.

I walked back up the rock face to the path when I noticed the group heading off in another direction.  I followed suit without question but realized quickly that a) the paved path turns to rocks and roots very quickly and b) this is all uphill. When I saw this, I again directed the distance question to my friend leading the pack.  He responded with “4 miles” and apparently I made a face.  And then he said it:

“I mean, just how bad are your feet flaring right now?  You did yesterday’s hike fine. So do they hurt or don’t they?”

OH NO YOU DIDN’T.

Now keep in mind that this is someone that I hang out with a lot and for the most part really enjoy hanging out with. He obviously knows about the RA but obviously doesn’t understand much about how symptoms can change.  In that moment, I really really really disliked him. But I get it- he wanted to do the hike and knew that if I said I couldn’t do it, most of the people we were with would probably join me back at the car. And that is how I decided that come hell or high water, I was going to finish the damn hike.

I disliked him even more as he began showboating for the group.  He called it stunt hiking- running up the trail and jumping over roots ninja style.  It was really annoying when all I’m trying to do is not fall on really steep and really uneven terrain.

I felt much better when he face planted while showing off his ‘root double axel.’

The whole ordeal very clearly illustrated the principle that one of friends (who is a personal trainer) believes: men are overly confident in their athletic ability while women doubt their athletic ability. Especially women with RA. 🙂

Coming up next: white water rafting, Lady Gaga concert, and the ACR Advocates for Arthritis in Washington DC.

372 Month Update

Dear Amanda:

Yes, you are writing yourself a letter in third person.  Why? Well, for one thing, Facebook has ruined you.  You and your friends tend to state things as Facebook status updates.  Why, I am not sure. Damn you, Facebook!  For another, you spend an awful lot of time reading the blogs of all of your friends who have children.  And so, in honor of your 372 month of life, you thought you’d be funny and mock the monthly updates that a lot of them do.

Yes, my dear, you are 372 months old today.  Let’s see what you’ve been up to!

Height: 5’6…you get very defensive if anyone says 5’5 because your goal in life was to be taller than your mother…who is 5’5.

Weight: 110 is the weight on your old SC drivers license.  For the record, it also says you’re 5’8.

Hair: Yes, you’ve had a full head of it for approximately 370 months.

Eyes: Still blue.

Motor skills/development: You’re working on being able to grip things. The actual gripping is fine but you have a hard time with ‘grip and twist.’  Hey, doesn’t that sound like a dance  move? And speaking of dance moves, you’re going to be taking a dance class soon.  You learned another lesson while searching for a dance class.  Never google ‘adult dance class.’  The results will not be what you are searching for.  A better query would be ‘your town name AND dance class.’  You can search through specific studios pretty quickly this way and not have to worry about people seeing the results in your search history.

Language Skills: Some problems here.  Nothing that a well placed bar of soap couldn’t fix.

Diet: You are SUCH a cheater this week.  But tomorrow starts a new week and a new commitment to being truly caffeine, gluten, dairy, and anything that tastes good free.  You really can tell a difference when you stay true to the diet.

Milestones: You are officially off of Prednisone.  YEAH!  Your wrists are really sore today- maybe because of this or maybe because of excessive red wine consumption. Who knows.  But you’re off of it and you’re still functioning which was not the case a few months ago.  Also, you attempted riding your friends bike the other night and while it wasn’t pretty, you didn’t fall on your ass!  YAY!  And when your friend offered to run after you holding the seat like you’re a baby with training wheels, you didn’t say anything incredibly rude!  MIRACLE!  Nope, you just cut your eyes, took another swig of wine, and wobbled down the driveway on the bike (which I may add is WAY too short for you) looking quite mature for your 372 years of life if I do say so myself.

What’s next for you: another glass of wine and some cake.  Duh.  Then some building back of strength/stamina that you lost over the summer, some losing of weight that you gained over the summer, and hopefully some attempting of antibiotic protocol after you finish your study.

Crazy Prednisone Dreams

I have weird dreams when I’m on Prednisone.

Granted, I’m in the process of tapering it off because my face looks like a damn jackolantern…but the dreams still continue and probably will for a little while longer.

A couple days ago I woke up in panic complete with flailing arms because I very vividly dreamed that there was a strange man standing over me.  Awhile back, I dreamed that Oprah was the mother of Michael Jackson’s children.

Um.  Okay.

I can’t figure out where the Prednisone dreams come from- normally I can trace my dreams to events of the day or tv shows I watch before bed.  But Prednisone dreams are just all over the place as far as rhyme or reason is concerned.

Last night, I dreamt that I was on an episode of ER.  And a specific episode to boot.

Strange…I haven’t watched ER since probably high school.  I used to watch Grey’s Anatomy but am more inclined to watch House now because the doctors on Grey’s seem to always kill their patients whereas patients on House tend to survive the episode.   It’s just a quirky personal preference stemming from the fact that I have health problems and don’t want to give myself a complex about having to go to the doctor.  But I’d still love to know why I dreamt about a very specific episode of a show I haven’t seen since probably 1998!

The plot is this: a patient comes in requesting an amputation of a leg (I think) and they put him on a psych hold.  Another patient is brought in by ambulance after having an accident with a chainsaw and, of course, brings said chainsaw.  One thing leads to another and the psych hold/would be amputee commandeers the chain saw and becomes an actual amputee.  Everyone bemoans the whole tragedy but the new amputee is fine and there is some discourse about how the patient felt a disconnect with the leg he so unceremoniously lopped off.

So I woke up and thought…well, that was random.  And my next thought was…I totally get it though.

I sure as hell feel a disconnect from some of my joints.  Especially when I’m flaring like I have been.  I think it makes it feel like less of a betrayal to me although I do still feel that.  A lot. And what if the patient had some excruciating condition on that leg that was completely unresponsive to medication and removing the leg would end the pain?  I realize that it was a psychological thing in the actual episode but taken from a pain perspective, boy do I understand.

Seriously, if someone told me that I could stop my RA pain forever by just removing said joint, I know I would seriously consider.

I also know that, in my case, I would have to lop off joint after joint and would end up resembling the Black Knight from Monty Python with WAY MORE than ‘just a scratch.’  And that even then, I would still have the fatigue and everything else to contend with.  Also, I would probably end up with vicious phantom RA pain because that is how my luck tends to run.

That would really suck!

Wow.  This has ended up a little more ‘dark’ than I intended.  I’m fine- I’ve actually had a very good weekend.  I just thought it was an interesting scenario.  Thoughts?

Here’s to hoping tonight’s dreams feature subject matter that is a little bit more warm and fuzzy!

Busy!

I meant to do another update on here on Monday night.

But I was feeling spectacularly horrible from having to leave 10 (yes, you read that correctly) vials of blood at the rheumatologist’s office earlier in the day as well as getting my first shot of Enbrel (I think) too.  I say I think because I am getting either  Enbrel or Humira- the study examines patients who succeeded and then failed on one and then watching the development of antibodies after starting on the other.  (Please note the absence of a phd at the end of my name- it is entirely possible that I stated that completely incorrectly.) Anyway, I’m pretty sure I am getting Enbrel for several reasons.  First, Humira has a distinct injection site sting.  There was no injection site sting but there was an intramuscular sting.  Second, the actual vaccine felt much thicker.  Third, I had a crazy headache the rest of the day and some problems sleeping that night, which I never had with Humira and which are listed as side effects for Enbrel.  Oh yes, I am so that patient who is awake googling side effects of things at 4 am!  Fourth….knock on wood while you’re reading this because I sure am…but it seems to actually be doing something! And, well, Humira wasn’t exactly doing that anymore.

So then I was going to update on Tuesday.

But I felt lousy.  I don’t know if it was from the lack of sleep, the new meds, completely unrelated stress, or what.  It felt like I do every once in awhile on ‘the morning after methotrexate.’  Just shaky and so so tired.  So I came home and got in bed with a movie.

I totally meant to update on Wednesday.

But I was swamped with finishing both a huge presentation for work for Friday and prepping for a regional meeting on Thursday.  Which meant that I stayed late.  But I actually had energy. And I was able to dial back the Prednisone.

I’d lie and tell you I meant to update on Thursday.

But I left my house at 7 am that morning and didn’t get home until after 9pm that night.

And Friday…

I again left the house at 7am, had my boss, her boss, and several additional people with us all day at a huge presentation for a client.  I came home from work and walked up with friends to watch a bike race that takes places in my neighborhood every year.  I ended the night on my back stairs around 2 am, eating pistachios and doing some…..um…..scientific research.

I  didn’t update Saturday because I was still…um…..deciphering the….results of said research.

I think I made a dosing error.

Must. Do. More. Research. SOON.

But not too much research.

And today, right before I wrote this update, I went on a walk AND THEN did a workout tape.  It wasn’t pretty.  I was really winded really quickly. I had to shut the front door AND make sure the blinds were drawn. NOBODY wants to see that. But I did it.  I haven’t done that since Christmas.

But all in all, not a bad week!  I just need to continue on this path and to hold myself back from doing too much too quickly.

Returning to the land of the living

I’m slowly starting to feel better.  Slowly.

I credit Prednisone with that for now- I start my new meds this week.  I think.  Can I get a very sarcastic THANKS FOR NOTHING sent out to BC/BS for dragging their feet so long on approving Remicade that I was able to fully enroll in a study at my rheumatologist’s office instead?  So instead of dealing with their craptastic coverage and customer service as well as paying co-pays for all sorts of things, I’m going to get a little bit of extra cash, free meds, free labs, free x-rays, and weekly appointments with my doctor for….free.  SUCK ON THAT, BLUE CROSS BLUE SHIELD.  I really appreciate it.

Anyway.

This past weekend was the first weekend since probably April where I really felt that I was present and engaged in my life at a level resembling normal.  I’m trying to slowly increase my activity levels both physically and socially. I went on several short walks around the park.  I went to the Farmers Market and got a ton of fresh fruits and veggies for $15.  Then I came home and I marinated chicken in tequila, lime juice, onions, and garlic.  Then I popped it on the grill with fresh farm grown squash and corn on the cob.  I served all of the above with fresh home made salsa.

I have to say that even for someone who hates cooking, there is something satisfying about your whole house smelling like cilantro.

The whole preparing of the meal, the actual cooking, and even the cleaning was easy activity level but busy enough activity wise to keep me from being bored.

And I didn’t burn the condo down.  SCORE.

I didn’t realize until Saturday night just how “not there” I’ve been.

I met a group of people out for drinks at one of our usual haunts.  I walked in, sat down at the bar, and ordered a glass of wine.  At a lull in the conversation, another friend came up to me and said that a bunch of people were going outside to play bocci ball and did I want to come.

“OH!  YEAH!”  I slid off my chair and started following her outside.  I LOVE bar games. I didn’t intend to play myself because my wrists are still sore but when there are drinks, balls/darts/other things that must be thrown/rolled/hit/flung and then you add in my friends…something funny always happens.  Particularly at this bar where the nimrod who installed the bocci ball court made it face a busy street with a low wall.

Nope, I’m not missing this for anything.

Before I could even walk 10 feet, my friend stopped and turned around smiling.

“Wow.  That was actually sincere!”

I just smiled.

For sure.  But ouch. That clearly implies that she knows that most recently I’ve only been going through the motions of things and maybe not terribly enthusiastic to hang out with her and the others even when I thought I was putting up a good front and that…sincerely hurts.  On the flip side, the fact that she/they continue to include me when I’m sure that some nights I’m about as much fun as a root canal…means the world.

I really do have awesome friends.

My friends didn’t disappoint- neither cars nor pedestrians were injured in our game but one of my friends hit the back wall with such force that it split the ball in half.

And, as yet another sign that I’m still not back to 100%, I woke up Sunday morning feeling that groggy, super tired slight hangover feeling.

Really? 2 glasses of wine?  And lots of water?

What the heck?!?

That’s just wrong.

HTNWBBKQ8XV5

Tequila is gluten free.

So yes, that’s pretty much my big take away from the weekend that started early Saturday morning with a shot of Toradol in my ass.  We’ll get to that in a moment….

Have you seen the movie Mean Girls?  It’s one of my favorite movies- snarky, hilarious and very well written (in my opinion).  If you haven’t seen it, in one of the plot lines, Cady is trying to sabotage Regina by telling her she should go on an all carb diet to lose weight.  Regina, not the brightest crayon in the box, keeps holding up items of food and asking “is butter a carb?” or “is bread a carb?”

So yes, that’s kind of how I feel right now grocery shopping.  It’s taking me forever and I literally read every package to see if it’s gluten free or not.  If I can’t tell by packaging, I whip out my trusty Blackberry and google “is rice gluten free?” I’m sure it’s pretty funny if you see it in action- me staring with a vacant, blank, confused stare intently at what is for most people a very simple package of food.  I’m sure it’s even funnier if you know much about my cooking style which I’m pretty sure I’ve alluded to here on multiple occasions.

Welcome to my home.  Allow me to heat you a wonderfully fresh gourmet Lean Cuisine.

But I’m slowly getting there.  I’m still cheating…but not as much…and have found a couple of things I really like.  I’ve found some items that are gluten free that really surprised me- TEQUILA and rice.  I even made a delicious Lentil casserole tonight.  And with that statement, somewhere, somehow, an angel got its wings.

I was being overly ambitious thinking I could go gluten and dairy free at the same time.  In fact, that’s what I was cheating with most often (I sprinkle a little bit of cheese everywhere- feta on eggs, cheddar on salads etc- and the soy cheese was awful.)  So I’m going back to baby steps- gluten free first.

So, about that shot in the ass….

I’ve give you the short version for now.

–  I went to a friend’s 30th birthday party on Friday night.  I rested all week for it, bought a new dress, and was really excited.

– Friday am, in true RA form, after a few days of feeling a little bit better, RA decided to make things more interesting.

– Things were so interesting Friday night midway through dinner that I left early.  I am still embarrassed- I tried to leave quietly but everyone asked why I was leaving and I had to give a bit more info than I wanted to at that time, especially to people who for the most part I don’t know.

– Saturday morning I woke up and things RA wise felt curiously differently.  By curiously different I mean REALLY EFFING AWFUL.  I wound up going to Urgent Care in tears, getting a shot of Toradol and prescriptions for another Medrol pack and Vicodin.

If I ever have children, they will be named Toradol and Vicodin.  For real.

That afternoon my neighbor, who witnessed my early morning emotional breakdown in the parking lot, came over to check on me.

Neighbor: So, how ya feeling Rockstar?

Me: A little better. Tired.  Sore.

Neighbor:  (chuckling) You must’ve had quite a night.

Me: (annoyed stare)

Neighbor: Ok, if you don’t want to talk about it…was it that bad?  Was he old or was he just not hot?

Me: (finally getting what she thought had happened) No, I was not drunk.  No, I was not walk of shaming home in tears.

I appreciate that though.  That’s awesome.

I would really like for my insurance company to hurry the heck up and approve this new medication.  Like immediately.

Hopeful?

I’ve had this awful feeling for the past five weeks of “just push through it.”  Telling myself “I know you don’t want to do it and I know you’re oh so tired but you have to do it anyways” about virtually every facet of my life has been exhausting.  And when I finish one of the things that I made myself go to, I am totally and utterly wiped.  Physically and emotionally. It is important to note that the things I’ve made myself go to with this mentality include but are not limited to: work, church, family functions, and early dinners with friends.

This weekend, I didn’t feel this way.

Friday after work, I went and got a massage.  I realized when I was undressing that I’ve been completely lax with certain things.  I’d like to publicly apologize to my massage therapist for the leg follage she had to touch.  And also for the thong.  I typically wear granny panties to massages so therapists don’t think I’m a whore…but I haven’t done laundry in three weeks so she should be grateful that it was at least clean.  Awkward.

I know you all were dying to know that. 

Then I had a quick dinner date with a guy I don’t really like.  Horrible, I know, but flare or no flare, it’s a recession and a girl’s got to eat.  Is it even more horrible that I totally dished about the RA to him in hopes of scaring him off?  And is the worst thing here that it didn’t phase him at all and while I should be impressed, I’m actually really annoyed?

Flares don’t necessarily bring out the best in me.

I was tired when I got home Friday evening and got in bed to watch a movie.  I actually slept through the night for the first time in a long time.  Yes,  I finally caved and took the Tramadol.

It was a hundred degrees here on Saturday.  I awoke mid morning to a text from a good friend asking if I’d like to go to the lake that afternoon.  I got up, made myself a cup of tea, and sat on the couch assessing my level of fatigue and the stiffness of my joints.  And then I had a rather uncharacteric (of lately) thought: why yes, I DO want to go to the lake today.  

Hhhhhmmmmmmm. Interesting.

The water at the lake was perfect and felt amazing on newly de-follaged legs and sore joints.  I’ve learned that my flares like heat. I was a little concerned about climbing in and out of the boat since I am weaker than normal but it wasn’t a problem.  My friends were concerned about weakness too and made sure I was always on either a tube or a raft and brought an ample supply of bottled water for me.

I hit a wall around 10 pm that evening but considering that I’d been outside since 3pm, that seemed pretty reasonable.  I was home and in bed by 11 and awoke still covered in lake water and SPF 2000 about 9am this morning.

I’ve been tired and sore today but not as much as usual and  I spent my day doing laundry and cleaning.

 Do you hear that sound? That sound? No, THAT one! What is that?

Oh right, the choirs of angels re: laundry.