my arthritis is really, really terrible today, and i have no idea why. i elected to work from home rather than go out in the heat, and from there into the freezing-cold over-air-conditioned office, and then back into the heat to go home, because large temperature differentials seem to be a big trigger for arthritis pain. but my hands are really, really achy -- enough so that i really ought not be typing, but i have work to do... and not really anything else, anyway. my shoulders are tender to the touch, which is always a very bad sign for me, and my hips and ankles are so stiff that when i get up to walk into the kitchen, i have to do it hunched over like an old lady.
i find smoking pot to be quite helpful with the pain, but i'm out at the moment. and of course, that shuts down my brain as well, which means i can't use it during the day anyway. not to mention that it's counterproductive to my mental health issues because it only delays the emergence of anything new so that when that thing pops out, it's had time to fester longer and get uglier.
of course, now that i have insurance, i can find a rheumatologist again. and prescription COX-2 inhibitors, taken daily, are really helpful for preventing this kind of flareup. i need to get round to doing that soon.
my pain is nowhere near as severe or debilitating as yours, but man, chronic pain is a bitch to live with. it saps your energy, it interferes with your life, and it's hard to get other people to take it seriously sometimes -- if they can't *see* that there's something wrong with you, they'll often forget. like the other day when i was gadding about san francisco with a couple of friends, and when we got onto the crowded Muni car they automatically took the two remaining seats, leaving me to stand while the train crept at a snail's pace through rush-hour traffic. and i'd already been on my feet, in bad shoes, for much of the day, while they'd both worn better shoes... i'd been invited to brunch, you see, and i wasn't expecting there to be an extended hike portion of the program. so i ended up bailing out early and going home to lie down.
i don't think of myself as a disabled person, but recently as the pain has gotten worse and i've found myself stymied by jar lids and unable to tear up unwanted credit card offers some days, i'm increasingly aware that i am becoming disabled whether i like it or not. and i hate that. i hate that there's so much i can't do now.
I haven't had pot since sometime in the early 1980s, so I don't know how it would affect my pain & fatigue problems. I do remember that it had it's own negative effect on my getting things done though. I've wondered about how/whether it would be medically useful to me, but have been nervous about experimenting in the current legal climate.
The most useful doctors I've seen have been rheumatologists. Yay for rheumatologists.
As to which of us has more debilitating pain, it probably depends on which day you look. I haven't had to walk hunched over all that often, but I have had to descend stairs backwards so that I could use my arms more when having a bad leg/hip day, and sometimes I lurch. Yes, it's a bitch to live with, and I think the energy-sapping aspect bothers me even more than the sensation of pain does. (Also the cognitive glitches that -- "fibro-fog" and short term memory problems -- that accompany fibromyalgia; in addition to getting in my way and being frustrating, those attack a major aspect of my self-image.) I know what you mean about jar lids and junk mail, too -- on a good day I still have strength but sometimes I'm afraid I'll hurt myself if I use it, and on bad days I feel as weak as a kitten.
Despite the "invisible disability" problem, most of my friends seem able to understand on at least an intellectual level, and some of my friends are better at spotting when I need to slow down than I am. Still, it's easy for folks to overlook or forget ... and even when I'm with people who do understand, I still feel bad for not being able to hold up my end sometimes (like when we're packing up the sound system after a gig, or when friends are moving).
That last bit connects to what you said about not thinking of yourself as a disabled person. It's hard enough when I've got "the old, capable me" as so much of my self-image, but add in the fact that my condition -- an my limits -- are variable ... "I'm not in a wheelchair," ... "On a good day I can do stuff," ... "I can lift that box even though I know I'll hurt for two days if I do."
I've had people tell me, "Well, we all find stuff we can't do any more as we get old." That misses an important point: I (and you) have been robbed of several years of being able to do those things. I can, with effort, adjust to knowing that I can't push my body as hard as I did when I was nineteen. I have a lot more trouble dealing with not being able to function like a normal sixty-year-old when I'm a good long way from being that age yet.
(no subject)
my arthritis is really, really terrible today, and i have no idea why. i elected to work from home rather than go out in the heat, and from there into the freezing-cold over-air-conditioned office, and then back into the heat to go home, because large temperature differentials seem to be a big trigger for arthritis pain. but my hands are really, really achy -- enough so that i really ought not be typing, but i have work to do... and not really anything else, anyway. my shoulders are tender to the touch, which is always a very bad sign for me, and my hips and ankles are so stiff that when i get up to walk into the kitchen, i have to do it hunched over like an old lady.
i find smoking pot to be quite helpful with the pain, but i'm out at the moment. and of course, that shuts down my brain as well, which means i can't use it during the day anyway. not to mention that it's counterproductive to my mental health issues because it only delays the emergence of anything new so that when that thing pops out, it's had time to fester longer and get uglier.
of course, now that i have insurance, i can find a rheumatologist again. and prescription COX-2 inhibitors, taken daily, are really helpful for preventing this kind of flareup. i need to get round to doing that soon.
my pain is nowhere near as severe or debilitating as yours, but man, chronic pain is a bitch to live with. it saps your energy, it interferes with your life, and it's hard to get other people to take it seriously sometimes -- if they can't *see* that there's something wrong with you, they'll often forget. like the other day when i was gadding about san francisco with a couple of friends, and when we got onto the crowded Muni car they automatically took the two remaining seats, leaving me to stand while the train crept at a snail's pace through rush-hour traffic. and i'd already been on my feet, in bad shoes, for much of the day, while they'd both worn better shoes... i'd been invited to brunch, you see, and i wasn't expecting there to be an extended hike portion of the program. so i ended up bailing out early and going home to lie down.
i don't think of myself as a disabled person, but recently as the pain has gotten worse and i've found myself stymied by jar lids and unable to tear up unwanted credit card offers some days, i'm increasingly aware that i am becoming disabled whether i like it or not. and i hate that. i hate that there's so much i can't do now.
grrrrr.
(no subject)
The most useful doctors I've seen have been rheumatologists. Yay for rheumatologists.
As to which of us has more debilitating pain, it probably depends on which day you look. I haven't had to walk hunched over all that often, but I have had to descend stairs backwards so that I could use my arms more when having a bad leg/hip day, and sometimes I lurch. Yes, it's a bitch to live with, and I think the energy-sapping aspect bothers me even more than the sensation of pain does. (Also the cognitive glitches that -- "fibro-fog" and short term memory problems -- that accompany fibromyalgia; in addition to getting in my way and being frustrating, those attack a major aspect of my self-image.) I know what you mean about jar lids and junk mail, too -- on a good day I still have strength but sometimes I'm afraid I'll hurt myself if I use it, and on bad days I feel as weak as a kitten.
Despite the "invisible disability" problem, most of my friends seem able to understand on at least an intellectual level, and some of my friends are better at spotting when I need to slow down than I am. Still, it's easy for folks to overlook or forget ... and even when I'm with people who do understand, I still feel bad for not being able to hold up my end sometimes (like when we're packing up the sound system after a gig, or when friends are moving).
That last bit connects to what you said about not thinking of yourself as a disabled person. It's hard enough when I've got "the old, capable me" as so much of my self-image, but add in the fact that my condition -- an my limits -- are variable ... "I'm not in a wheelchair," ... "On a good day I can do stuff," ... "I can lift that box even though I know I'll hurt for two days if I do."
I've had people tell me, "Well, we all find stuff we can't do any more as we get old." That misses an important point: I (and you) have been robbed of several years of being able to do those things. I can, with effort, adjust to knowing that I can't push my body as hard as I did when I was nineteen. I have a lot more trouble dealing with not being able to function like a normal sixty-year-old when I'm a good long way from being that age yet.