You’ve been warned. I’m whiny. I’m all about the self pity today.
I’m trying very hard in my day to day (real life) interactions to completely shine on the RA and just act as if. I’m getting up earlier in the morning so that the stiffness wears off earlier in the day, which sort of works, but also leaves me tired much earlier in the evening (read: when I’m supposed to be making dinner I want to sleep). I’ve tried playing tennis a few times since starting the Celebrex, but it’s just pitiful. I can’t really move the way I need to. In my head I’m running, but my feet just can’t take the action without limping, and my knees and hips are creaky and sore. We last a few minutes, and my partner is always gracious with an, “I’m tired, I’d like to quit.”
Hopefully no one notices my inability to move well. I’m totally wedded to the concept of my kids not having a sick mom. I don’t want to be that lady, but I kind of can’t help it sometimes.
When people say to me, “How are you?” I typically mutter, “fine how are you?” Which is code for we aren’t listening to each other talk, so why are we bothering.
Sometimes I just stare at them blankly, other times my eyes well up with tears and I pull on my sunglasses. “Allergies.” I say.
I started with the Methotrexate this week, and my arms are peppered in bruises the size of pencil erasers that don’t hurt, but keep me in long sleeves. I’m a little nauseous, but I’m not sure that it’s not from the whole concept of this ridiculous turn my life has taken. It is nauseating.
So I’m whiny on my blog, because if I was this whiny in real life I don’t know that I’d have anyone left.