ACHES, ANXIETY AND A-HOLES

I don’t make a habit of resorting to vulgarities, but occasionally I succumb to the low-mindedness that allows a few to escape my fingertips. My apologies if I offend anyone’s sensitivities. But there is a very good likelihood that at some point in your journey with RA, you will find yourself at the mercy of a doctor who is uninformed, ignorant, or just plain rude. It’s not entirely their fault. We put far too much trust into the hands of physicians, who, by their own admission, are practicing the art of medicine. It usually takes years, an acute mind, or a combination of both to acquire the skills or intuitiveness to recognize RA in its early stages.

Lately I’ve noticed that many of my writer friends who blog are participating in a game in which they follow the alphabet with their blog posts. I liked the idea, so decided I would try it with this journal, although I won’t guarantee I continue all the way through the twenty-six letters. I’ll go until I get stuck, and then, unless someone steps in and rescues me, I’ll drop it. Perhaps readers will share their own thoughts in the same manner, which could be a lot of fun for all of us.  And if there is anything we need in our lives, it’s more fun, or more reasons to laugh.

I don’t have a clue as to when the seed for this disease was first planted within my depths. I was in my mid twenties when I realized something weird was happening with my body. We were stationed in Kentucky. (My husband was in the Army.)

Kentucky is hot in the summer, and extremely humid. I began waking up in the night – every night, it seemed – with severe leg aches. I sleep on my side, and my hips began hurting so badly that I would toss and turn all night long. At first I attributed it to the cold from the air-conditioning. I hadn’t grown up with refrigerated air, so I thought it was a matter of not being used to it. So I turned it off and opened the windows. That only increased the discomfort and pain in my legs. The best explanation I could come up with for the feeling was like a toothache in my legs, which usually resulted in strange looks from family members or close friends who couldn’t imagine the feeling I was trying to convey.

My parents came to visit that summer. My husband was away on military business, and my daughter was very young, so they came out to help me with her since they knew I was experiencing some minor problems. I hadn’t given my latest sleeping attire much thought until the first night they were at the house. My mother came into my room to show me something, and she burst out laughing for no apparent reason. I waited patiently for her to explain the joke that I had somehow missed, thinking my dad had done something silly. But after a moment she pointed at me and asked, “What in the world are you wearing?”

The smile left my face as I glanced down at my pajama ensemble; a strappy red tank top and my husband’s Army issue woolen long johns. Just a few nights earlier, in an act of desperation, I had donned my husband’s winter underwear in an effort to relieve the nightly leg aches. And, it had helped, even though I had to crank up the air-conditioning and place a fan near my head to avoid the sauna effect.

My mom listened politely and with much sympathy to my complaints and efforts to alleviate them, and then asked me why I hadn’t gone to a doctor. This is where the first of the A-holes comes in. I explained that I had gone to the doctor, several times, and he had finally determined that it was all in my head. I had the typical Army Wife Syndrome. He explained that there was nothing wrong with me. After all, he had x-rayed my hips and no structural damage was evident. So he deduced that my problem was caused by the fact that my spouse was spending lots of time down range or out on maneuver, and I had nothing better to do with my time than dream up symptoms and run to the doctor’s office every chance I had. Puh-leeeeease.

Of course, at the time I was still fairly young, so even though I knew how painful my legs became each night, part of me believed him. That served to raise my anxiety levels ten-fold. Not only was I suffering from lack of restful sleep, increasing pain that was beginning to interfere with my daily routine, I had also become a hypochondriac. My world was beginning to suck, but it was going to get much worse.

So, that’s it for A. How about you? Do you have a word or a phrase that describes a part of your journey? I’d love to hear it. Or perhaps you have a question. I possess very little scientific knowledge, but there’s always the chance someone else will know it if I can’t find it.

Thanks for dropping by. I’ll try to come up with something a bit more interesting for B, but right now I’m empty. Have a blessed night. Sleep tight. And if you have to wrap yourself in wool, know that someone out here understands.