Tag: arthritis

A Little Push Every Day.

~ Sue ~ 1 Comment

During my last post, I talked about trying to get my life in some kind of order. After some further thought, I decided to give myself till Christmas, as a place to assess how well things have gotten. So I have decided to focus on different things every day, do things in small bits. Because, when you simply look at the ‘bigger picture’ it can easily become overwhelming. Or, it does when I do.

Yesterday was a struggle, where I was really sore. I find it really hard to start moving, when I have no solid plans. So I lay on my bed, and felt sorry for myself. I was awake early, but I had no motivation. And that is the issue, the longer I lie, the more everything hurts. Around midday, I got a text from my friend about going to get some coffee after her work, and that appeared to be all the plan I needed. It was frustrating because I couldn’t even do the dishes because I had zero grip, which made me feel useless and I had a little cry. I then went for the bus and bought a sandwich to finally have some painkillers. Progress.

As I already knew, once I had my pain relief and had started walking around, things started to feel a lot better. I had coffee with my friend, and then I went and bought stuff for dinner. I ended up feeling so good I made my dinner, which is a rarity when I have a bad pain day. And then I finally did dishes, so despite starting off bad, I felt rather accomplished.

So, I decided that as I watched the TV during the evening, I was going to do some drawing. One of those hobbies that I have been struggling with. So I charged up my Apple Pencil, and spent around an hour doing a doodle. It wasn’t a piece of fantastic art, but it was a bit of creativity. I am fully aware it looks like a piece of crap.

Today has been a lot better. I got up and moving at a decent time. Had breakfast and pain relief at a decent hour. I then did the dishes, and decided I needed to do some laundry. 5 loads of laundry to be exact. And I organised some things in my room, which made the mess a little bit less messy. I did it whilst listening to some vinyl, namely Descendents’ Everything Sux, and NWA’s Straight Outta Compton. By focusing on what I was doing for short burst, I was quite productive. I’ve now had my dinner, half my laundry is drying on the line outside, and I am planning on having a wee read tonight, after I finish writing.

I feel like a person who can actually function today, which is rare. This is the feeling that I wanted, and one I hope to continue. I’m very good at recognising the bad days, but I need to recognise the good days more.

Marchin’ On

~ Sue ~ Leave a comment

I call my bedroom, my depression pit. It has become the one place that is my personal space, so everything is a mess. As in everything is on the floor, and it is like I don’t have a carpet, because there is so much crap all over the floor. It isn’t everywhere, I don’t like dirty dishes sitting around, so I like the kitchen clean. Also, spaces I share with the rest of the family, everything should be organised, especially because any visitors will see them.

But my room, when I feel low, I don’t see any point in keeping it tidy at all. When my mental health is poor, I can struggle to do the most basic thing. And with winter coming in, making my arthritis pains worse, I don’t have the mental oomph to push myself to make any kind of effort. Like, I have a job, and it takes any energy that I have to complete my shifts successfully, without biting anyone’s head off. And lately, I have been so sore at work, that I come home so utterly exhausted, that I sit down and everything hurts too much to do anything else. If I am lucky I might boil some noodles for my dinner, if that. Constant pain and bad mental health actually plays havoc with my eating habits. I have no appetite. I have to schedule in eating, and am very bad at saying ‘oh, it’s 10.30am, I may as well wait till lunch time’. It leads to irregular eating habits, which leads me to believe that if I can’t even eat properly, why bother trying anything else.

This links to my ‘depression pit’, because I feel so worthless that I don’t put things away at all. Like, what is the point? I often get to the point where I have to clamber over piles of clothing just to get to my bed. I spoke to a therapist about this, and she says I may struggle because I don’t see the point in making effort for myself, and asked me what I did to for myself. It was worrying that I couldn’t really come up with an answer. Everything in my life feels like a task that needs to be achieved, even playing Mario Kart or reading books. And, if I don’t do anything, it is like I have failed at what I planned, and that reinforces this idea of why I don’t see the point in making effort to do things.

However, today, our central heating was due its annual service, and the boiler is in my closet. So, I had to tidy up, and I spent this weekend slowly plodding through it. Sorting out rubbish, and clothes, dusting and just organising things. I struggle doing it for any length of time, so I set timers, and worked away on smaller targets for up to an hour at a time. And today it looks pretty tidy. And I do like it. However, anyone who has a ‘depression pit’ will tell you it is not a simple untidy space, it is months of buildup. Months of feeling hopeless. Months of feeling listless. Sometimes, you need a catalyst to force you to do anything, or I do. So the heating guy having to come in my room ended up being a push.

I do feel good that things are now tidy, I just need to keep myself motivated. Sometimes, it is so exhausting running from the constant sense of failure, that I just give up. Everything else is exhausting anyway. But… clean slate. As they say, when you fall off the horse, you dust yourself off and try again. That’s where I am, just dusted myself off.

Good Acting?

~ Sue ~ Leave a comment

I have been struggling a lot recently. I have been in a lot of pain when trying to move, which has been causing problems with the most basic activity. I still get up and manage to work, and try to focus on anything but pain. Putting a smile on my face, and try to live in the moment, where I am focused on what I am doing, rather than focus on how I am feeling. Which helps me get through every day, because if I don’t, the day would be unbearable. But, because I do try to do my best every day, people tend to not think I am struggling as much as I make out.

It makes me wonder, have I really got that good at pretending, or is it simply easier for people to not take someone seriously when it comes to health problems? I, of course, don’t want to think anyone would dismiss anyone’s health problems. But, it still comes to mind. I have been accused of making my health problems up. Like, because of my arthritis, I have bad grip, but sometimes my hands swell more some days. These days, I may have to approach my manager to do a different job, because of the pain (and the real risk that I could drop and break something). I have been accused of co-workers of making things up, because I don’t want to do a job. Which annoys the hell out of me, I would never dodge out of any work. But sometimes, I have to put my health first, and if something is too strenuous, I have to speak up.

Today has been a good day. Luckily for me. Where I am conscious things are still stiff and swollen, but I can work through the pain easily. It does happen. I could put on my jacket today, and pull on my socks with ease. Most days, however, this is not the case. And I struggle with the most basic task. People make jokes at work when I wear a baseball cap, when the truth is my arms couldn’t lift the brush high enough to sort my hair out. But I laugh with them, because I’d rather laugh at the oddity of the hat, rather than focus on the tears I had trying to get tugs out of my hair.

I guess, my point, in a roundabout way, is that you never know what anyone is going through. I am usually at my best when at work, because I am moving around, loosening my joints, and my mind is focused on what is in front of me. That is part the story of my health issues, but it is not the whole story. And, you will likely never know a person’s ‘whole story’, only what they decide to share. So, if they share something difficult, don’t assume it’s nonsense, because the side you see seems fine.

Painful

~ Sue ~ Leave a comment

I write on here a lot, about my mental health. How I deal with my anxiety and depression. It’s not the only health issues I have, though.

I have had muscular problems since I was at primary school. Nothing serious. But I would take my dog a walk, where she would pull on her lead, and my arm would ache, afterwards. I would get sore hands for carrying heavy school bags. I would go to the doctor, and like most things when you are a child or teenager, hormones were apparently to blame. I then worked in a bakery, as my first real job. Did it for about 4 years, and would have awful pains in my hands and elbows. At this point, the doctor’s diagnosis changed from ‘hormones’ to ‘tendonitis’. And they just gave me ‘prescription only’ strength Ibuprofen.

The pains never went away. But, I always got the impression I was an annoyance, so I stopped going to the doctor unless it became unbearable. I am also deeply aware that this is when my mental health became a big player. And my anxious brain tells me everything that I do, is a waste of time. So I would always talk myself out of calling for help. I would just manage it myself, with hot showers and baths, and buy off the shelf basic painkillers. Nothing would ‘take the pain away’ but it took the ‘heat’ off a bit.

As I have got older, the pain has got worse. A lot worse. Focusing around my feet, ankles, and hands. So, I was recommended by my work’s Occupational health department, to try again with the GP. I did, and I eventually got a referral to a rheumatologist, as rheumatoid arthritis is a big problem in my family. I finally felt I was getting somewhere. I had the initial appointment, with x-rays, scans, and a complete head-to-toe check. The rheumatologist believed that I definitely had signs of arthritis, as there was some deformation in my ankle, and concerns about my hands too. Great. He would get in contact for the next appointment.

Except, with COVID, I never heard anything. I phoned the rheumatology department, and no answer. I left messages, and no one got back. I called my GP, and they said my referral was still with the hospital. My anxious mind, once again gets involved, and lets me know that if it was really serious, they would help me. So, once again, I found myself really struggling to call up. So I found an email address for rheumatology, and I emailed them. Explained I had been trying to contact them, but had nothing. And it was they who were supposed to contact me. After 2 weeks I had a message left on my answering machine on my mobile phone. The message explained that because I had only had my first appointment, and no follow-ups. Too much time had lapsed. I had been referred back to my GP.

I was in my car. In the Tesco car park. Crying. Properly in bits. I felt like, after the best part of a year, I was back at square one. And things were getting worse. My shoulders have been agony for the last 7-8 weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, and nothing seems enough to get referred again. I am exhausted.

Sometimes I think, because I work, because I try to push through it. I am treated as if my problems aren’t serious. My mental health is better when I work, as it is the only routine I can keep. And for a lot of my pains, being physical, actually loosens my sore joints, and helps with pain. Until I stop, and everything ceases up again. Sometimes it can take 25 minutes for me to get dressed, because my movement is so restricted because of the pain.

I barely have the energy to go to work. I struggle through my job. I am just very fortunate that my management, and the folk I work with, try to understand and help when I am having problems, be it mentally or physically.

I am at the point where I have tried 4 weeks before I was able to get a GPs appointment, and they just gave me stronger pain killers. She actually said to me ‘would you like a sick line, that might help you be seen quicker’. Why? Because your problem is thought of as serious when you are unable to work. How ridiculous does that sound?

Every day feels like a ‘no bones day’ or a day where I am running on half spoons. I am so exhausted all the time.