RA (Rheumatoid Arthritis) Sucks

Well, crap....

Yes, it has been a while. A very looong while. What can I say? I've been fatigued -- both physically and emotionally, have been in the grip of a significant flare, and have been trying to change medications. In short, lately, I've been a crazy woman.

Plus, my oldest cat, Patch, who has been with me for 17 years, is dying. So I've been depressed, too.

I'm also really tired of winter. Perhaps I have a touch of SADs?

In the face of these happenings, I've been loath to do much more than I need to. We're talking bare minimum here (and I do mean "bare," since the garb I wear these days tends to be little more than t-shirts and granny panties. I know: You could do without the visual, right?).

And I haven't had much to say, because I've been thinking too much. I tire myself out with my cognitive tendencies. You know how, sometimes, you think that if you hear or see one more word about RA or its effects, you're going to scream? Yeah. So that's been me lately.

I guess you could say I've been practicing avoidance. Not denial, but avoidance. And it's a very specific avoidance: the avoidance of RA-related stuff beyond my immediate experience. Sometimes, I just can't hack that stuff. And this makes me feel a little bad. Because I know that those of us in the blogosphere have been able to form a community of sorts, and that this community gives us support in ways that other people and venues can't.

But sometimes, I just want to hibernate. Because I've eaten all the salmon and berries that I could find (or, in my case, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups), and if I try to eat one more tiny berry, I'm going to throw everything all up over everybody's shoes. And we all know how much fun that is to clean up.

Not.

Anyway, I'm still here. I'm just waiting for some crocuses to pop up through the snow. Is that too much to ask? (Hmmm. This feels like an "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret" moment. Sigh.)

Pants Size = Extra Large

Well, I know it's after the holidays (which were LOTS of fun!). So I suppose that some weight gain was to be expected. But holy crap, dudes, I've gained close to 50 pounds since last January, when I first started Cymbalta, Lyrica, and Enbrel.

Yes, you read that right: Fifty freaking pounds!

My weight has yo-yo'ed by approximately 10 - 15 pounds throughout my life, depending upon time and circumstances. But previously,I could shed those pounds fairly easily by eating less and exercising more.

But this time, the weight won't come off. It's sheer torture, especially for a woman who absolutely hates shopping (except for shoes; I have an addiction to shoes.).

I'm keeping my caloric intake at 1000 - 1200 calories and doing aerobic exercise 40 - 50 minutes a day. 

The only thing to which I can attribute my bloomage is the drugs.

My Neuro Dude says that most people only gain a few pounds from Lyrica and Cymbalta (which I take for my peripheral neuropathy; the Enbrel I take for RA. But you already knew that.). He, of course, thinks that I'm underestimating my caloric intake. (I'm not. I can read the nutritional info on my Lean Cuisines just fine, thank you.)

It's just so damned frustrating. Am I going to have to choose between being in pain and being normal weight? Have y'all experienced anything like this?

A Cold Splash of Water to the Face

I have a certifiable, explanation-defying attraction to certain reality shows. Shows like "The Little Couple," "911: The Bronx," and "Deadliest Catch." I make no excuses for my unseemly, voyeuristic interest in the lives of others. I simply accept it. And I've generally been enjoying my viewing habits.

Until yesterday, when I watched (via TiVo) the most recent episode of "Deadliest Catch" on TLC.

During said episode, Jake Anderson, one of the deckhands on the (Alaskan crab) fishing vessel "Northwestern" learns that his 38 year-old sister, Chelsea, has died from complications resulting from Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, a disease from which she had suffered since the age of two. As he is speaking to his mother for the first time since learning of his sister's death, Jake tearfully says "Mom, she's in a much better place now. She can run now. And she's so beautiful and no one can make fun of her any more."

Honestly, I thought I was going to throw up.

Because what all of it made clear to me is exactly how serious -- how deadly serious -- this disease is.

You know, even though I like to think of myself as a pragmatic and realistic person, I have to admit that when it comes to RA, I guess I'm still in something of a state of denial. And emotionally and psychologically, I think RAers have to be, to a certain extent: we'd be completely certifiable and suicidal if we were to dwell without ceasing on every assault RA can make on our bodies.

And yet....

I think my denial may go beyond the norm a lot of the time. Yes, I've made certain concessions to the disease. I'll sometimes ask for help, for example. But sometimes, I won't. Granted, part of my refusal to request help is due to sheer stubbornness. But part of it is due to the fact that I still can't really believe I have RA.

Why? Well, I have none of the blood markers: RF, CCP, ESR. My CRP level has only been elevated once. Because of all of this, I can't even participate in any RA research studies. Ha! And then there's the fact that I possess minimal swelling. So, those are all indicators that I don't have RA. Now what are the indicators that I actually do have RA? Morning stiffness, chronic joint pain in my hands and feet and wrists and ankles, positive ultrasounds, and positive x-rays. So which is it? Do I or don't I?

If I don't, then what's wrong with me? If I do, then I'm gonna be scared sometimes. Like I was when I watched "Deadliest Catch."

Scared and sad. Scared because it's serious. Sad because people still deride things they don't understand.

Poor Chelsea. I do indeed hope that you are in a better place.

Sorry. I Don't Mean to Skip Out....

It's just that the past couple of days have been hectic and painful.

I'll elaborate just a bit: We just moved to Chicago in April, so we're still in the process of selling our house out in the 'burbs. This is what we've been working on the past few days. I also have an additional health problem for which I receive PT; this takes up time. Finally, I've been flare-ish the past few weeks (including the neuropathy in my hands and feet); this makes me wonder whether the Enbrel is still working as well as if/when I should contact the rheumy.

So, anyway, sorry for the posting delays. But sometimes life becomes a little more complicated.

See you soon! I'm going back to bed.