Re-reading my devotional by Claudia Mitchell and Kim Goad...Chapter One always has a lot that pops out at me. More or less, it describes why being a woman (girl) is important, and that there really is a reason for existence. Not that I doubted that.
"...pointing all the way back to Eve, who listened to the whisper of the enemy when he told her: 'you cannot trust God...God does not love you.'" jumped out enough at me that I even wrote in my book. (Hey! At least it is enough of a pain free day I can prop a book open on my lap).
I fight to know God has a purpose now for my physical pain. There was a purpose for any fear or depression. I have long fought and won that battle and can talk to so many people without judgement or fear of the strange thoughts they might have.
I do not doubt God's love for me, or that I cannot trust God. My past has shown me that He is the safest to allow to love me, the safest to trust. I can allow others to love me, and trust others, too, but He will always always be there for me.
I refuse, as Job also did, to blame God for my physical pain. I know it seems illogical to others. Why would God allow so much bad to happen? We made the choice to break the world, and must suffer through generations until the final signal of "enough is enough" comes to be.
I am waiting to see what this pain is for, and how/when I can use that knowledge in this broken world.
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Schnauzers
My little schnauzer, Zoe, is finally, possibly, doing better. We ended up getting her from someone I think I would now classify as a puppy mill...she came to us with fleas (not too bad, but still), and ear mites and three types of worms. I'm surprised she looked as good as she has. We took her to the vet two different times trying to get the worms under control. She then ended up with diarrhea--poor little thing. Never seemed sick, just a little quieter than the other schnauzers. Makes me mad, considering what we paid for her. No excuse for letting a puppy be that sick. I am certain that the mother had worms for the puppies to have it that bad.
Noah, the little male, is nearly house broken 100%. He has the funniest habit of walking around on his hind legs, nearly on tip toe. It's so funny. Gracie is still...Gracie. She thinks that she is a princess. She cracks me up.
Noah, the little male, is nearly house broken 100%. He has the funniest habit of walking around on his hind legs, nearly on tip toe. It's so funny. Gracie is still...Gracie. She thinks that she is a princess. She cracks me up.
Saturday, October 18, 2014
A day in Rheumatoid Arthritis
Having a soft diagnosis of RA (polyarthralgia at the moment) is not easy. I have been so sick with pain the last week and a half to not even be able to eat or sleep.
I was once such a doubtful person about RA. How could it really hurt that much? Surely if the person exercised more, ate better, slept better, took the right vitamins, etc etc., they would be fine, and nothing would hurt them. Surely they can just take a tylenol, an aspirin or something.
No. It is not enough. And then, being in so much pain, we need actual pain medications, not the typical NSAIDs. And we have to fight the legality of being "drug seekers". Those of us with RA would rather die than sell, trade or give away our pain medication. I cannot describe the agony of every joint being attacked by your own immune system. The broken arm I once had was nothing like it...the closest is if you drop a book on your foot. Or slam your finger in a door. Only it is everywhere. Everywhere!!
I hate sitting. I hate laying down. I am less likely to get sick-pain if I lay down. I have to sit just so as to avoid the sick-pain of scrunching some joint wrong. I have not been a person to do nothing when ill...I would at least read a book, doodle or something. Most of the time I cannot hold a book long enough to read more than a chapter. I have not seen anyone beyond my family in ages, and I have been someone to visit people if I at all could gather energy.
You must just be depressed, my reader is likely thinking. No. I know depression, and this is no depression. My thoughts are clear, and while I may cry from missing out on a family dinner for my Great Aunt who is on hospice, I am not a depression mess. In fact, it is insulting to me when people suggest it.
You must be anxious, then. No one can really hurt that much. No. I am not anxious. Not unless the pain is so bad I can barely see straight.
I desperately want to get well, because I am angry as a nurse. The lack of therapy that I have found being a patient and the treatment of people with RA is an abomination. I am on a group of over 8000 people with RA and other similar autoimmune diseases. The lack of pain control for these people is atrocious. There are posts all through the night of people whose medications have been cut, have no money for the script, who cannot get a script for pain medications. The photos of those poor souls faces scream at me, their exhausted eyes mimic mine, the dark shadows to their cheekbones are mirror copies. Photos of people whose hands look like mine sometimes do, fingers twisting 180 degrees due to the swelling, braces on every joint....begging each other for ideas to control the pain. If I get well enough I want to make changes. We are not drug seekers. We just want to live like everyone else. We are not depressed (beyond misery from pain). We are not making this up.
I was once such a doubtful person about RA. How could it really hurt that much? Surely if the person exercised more, ate better, slept better, took the right vitamins, etc etc., they would be fine, and nothing would hurt them. Surely they can just take a tylenol, an aspirin or something.
No. It is not enough. And then, being in so much pain, we need actual pain medications, not the typical NSAIDs. And we have to fight the legality of being "drug seekers". Those of us with RA would rather die than sell, trade or give away our pain medication. I cannot describe the agony of every joint being attacked by your own immune system. The broken arm I once had was nothing like it...the closest is if you drop a book on your foot. Or slam your finger in a door. Only it is everywhere. Everywhere!!
I hate sitting. I hate laying down. I am less likely to get sick-pain if I lay down. I have to sit just so as to avoid the sick-pain of scrunching some joint wrong. I have not been a person to do nothing when ill...I would at least read a book, doodle or something. Most of the time I cannot hold a book long enough to read more than a chapter. I have not seen anyone beyond my family in ages, and I have been someone to visit people if I at all could gather energy.
You must just be depressed, my reader is likely thinking. No. I know depression, and this is no depression. My thoughts are clear, and while I may cry from missing out on a family dinner for my Great Aunt who is on hospice, I am not a depression mess. In fact, it is insulting to me when people suggest it.
You must be anxious, then. No one can really hurt that much. No. I am not anxious. Not unless the pain is so bad I can barely see straight.
I desperately want to get well, because I am angry as a nurse. The lack of therapy that I have found being a patient and the treatment of people with RA is an abomination. I am on a group of over 8000 people with RA and other similar autoimmune diseases. The lack of pain control for these people is atrocious. There are posts all through the night of people whose medications have been cut, have no money for the script, who cannot get a script for pain medications. The photos of those poor souls faces scream at me, their exhausted eyes mimic mine, the dark shadows to their cheekbones are mirror copies. Photos of people whose hands look like mine sometimes do, fingers twisting 180 degrees due to the swelling, braces on every joint....begging each other for ideas to control the pain. If I get well enough I want to make changes. We are not drug seekers. We just want to live like everyone else. We are not depressed (beyond misery from pain). We are not making this up.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Dr Who and the Blood of Olympus
When you can only sit most of the time, there is not a whole lot you can do. Especially if you fingers will not bend enough to do anything, or can't remain in one position to do a craft. Your option is TV watching and possible book reading...if you can prop the book open because your hand will no longer hold a book. Whee.
TV watching is normally boring for me shortly. It should be. But because I hurt or feel sick I am strangely not bored. I have watched the only season of Downton Abbey that I have...and still feel that Thomas and the Mrs whats-her-face are absolute jerks. Enough so that they make me angry. Being in pain, nauseated and angry is not likely a good combination. So maybe no more with Downton Abbey. Dr Who is a new one...but hard to watch if you hurt/don't feel good. It makes things less funny.
MZ bought me the Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordian. Been waiting over a year for this book. I had forgotten all about it coming out with this pain. So today I am going to try and crack the spine. Of the book, not me. Shalom.
TV watching is normally boring for me shortly. It should be. But because I hurt or feel sick I am strangely not bored. I have watched the only season of Downton Abbey that I have...and still feel that Thomas and the Mrs whats-her-face are absolute jerks. Enough so that they make me angry. Being in pain, nauseated and angry is not likely a good combination. So maybe no more with Downton Abbey. Dr Who is a new one...but hard to watch if you hurt/don't feel good. It makes things less funny.
MZ bought me the Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordian. Been waiting over a year for this book. I had forgotten all about it coming out with this pain. So today I am going to try and crack the spine. Of the book, not me. Shalom.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Polyathralgia and being a nurse
I am a nurse. Body, soul and spirit, I have always been overly concerned about the welfare of others. I will do anything to help someone.
Now I can't. At least for the moment.
I have polyarthralgia: inflammatory joint pain in more than five joints. It's a working diagnosis until what is wrong with me is able to be screened out of blood work.
Let me state completely: This is NOT psychosomatic (in my head). I have had pain that was psychosomatic. It is never crippling, and it goes away if you so much as talk to someone, go for a walk, journal or read a book. This is real pain. Few people will honestly believe you in the world, because it is invisible. And if lab work fails to show anything suspicious, you will be even less believed than you were before.
People have often judged me as "whiny". I figure I have had this whatever it is for years. I used to be tough as nails. I could do anything and never get tired. I built fences, stacked hay, packed grain, cleaned stalls and rode horses for hours, and always had boundless energy. When I hit 17, I was always tired and always overwhelmed. Do not judge me as pathetic. I do not deserve it, and I won't stand for it anymore.
I was always active, tired, but busy. I went to college and had awesome grades, if I do say so myself. I worked my tail off through RN school, and I got an amazing job as a home health nurse which I adore. Wound care is my delight--helping cure people is so amazingly wonderful. I can't describe what it is to be a nurse, and to hold the hand of someone dying, shake the hand of someone "cured" and so it is a last visit...help someone through the trials of life.
I want a me to take care of me.
I now hurt so much that I move like an 85 year old, grasping counters and chair backs to make sure I don't fall as I avoid putting weight on my feet. I cannot hold a pen for more than 15 minutes. Sometimes I can't hold it at all. I drop cups and plates. I wouldn't hold a baby if you offered it to me, because I might drop it. I cannot stand the bouncing of a car, and do not leave the house unless I have to go to the doctor. I run a fever every day. I cannot sleep because of the pain, have lost 3 pounds in five days from the nausea. I cannot hold a book, and often cannot type. I cannot knit, crochet, paint, draw or sew. I can't hold the items and stand the ache . I can sit. And I can lay down. And I can go for walks three times a day that are 50 feet long. I cannot go see people because of the car issue
No. I am not making this stuff up. And no I am not enjoying myself. I want to work again like I was. I want to be able to go to movies with my husband and have dinner and dance. I want to be able to make the Christmas presents I had planned. I want to live again.
Now I can't. At least for the moment.
I have polyarthralgia: inflammatory joint pain in more than five joints. It's a working diagnosis until what is wrong with me is able to be screened out of blood work.
Let me state completely: This is NOT psychosomatic (in my head). I have had pain that was psychosomatic. It is never crippling, and it goes away if you so much as talk to someone, go for a walk, journal or read a book. This is real pain. Few people will honestly believe you in the world, because it is invisible. And if lab work fails to show anything suspicious, you will be even less believed than you were before.
People have often judged me as "whiny". I figure I have had this whatever it is for years. I used to be tough as nails. I could do anything and never get tired. I built fences, stacked hay, packed grain, cleaned stalls and rode horses for hours, and always had boundless energy. When I hit 17, I was always tired and always overwhelmed. Do not judge me as pathetic. I do not deserve it, and I won't stand for it anymore.
I was always active, tired, but busy. I went to college and had awesome grades, if I do say so myself. I worked my tail off through RN school, and I got an amazing job as a home health nurse which I adore. Wound care is my delight--helping cure people is so amazingly wonderful. I can't describe what it is to be a nurse, and to hold the hand of someone dying, shake the hand of someone "cured" and so it is a last visit...help someone through the trials of life.
I want a me to take care of me.
I now hurt so much that I move like an 85 year old, grasping counters and chair backs to make sure I don't fall as I avoid putting weight on my feet. I cannot hold a pen for more than 15 minutes. Sometimes I can't hold it at all. I drop cups and plates. I wouldn't hold a baby if you offered it to me, because I might drop it. I cannot stand the bouncing of a car, and do not leave the house unless I have to go to the doctor. I run a fever every day. I cannot sleep because of the pain, have lost 3 pounds in five days from the nausea. I cannot hold a book, and often cannot type. I cannot knit, crochet, paint, draw or sew. I can't hold the items and stand the ache . I can sit. And I can lay down. And I can go for walks three times a day that are 50 feet long. I cannot go see people because of the car issue
No. I am not making this stuff up. And no I am not enjoying myself. I want to work again like I was. I want to be able to go to movies with my husband and have dinner and dance. I want to be able to make the Christmas presents I had planned. I want to live again.
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