So just the other day I went on this mini rant and declared that THIS would be the BEST year of my life. Yep, that's what I did. Me, big, old, happy and I'm being totally facetious here, me. But I was kinda serious about it. A bit at least. And so like me I've been reading about how to make it the best year of my life and how to get healthy and conquer stress, pain and adversity in my life.
So not 2 minutes after that and so like my life I go to the arthritis specialist to you know "just get tested as a precaution" because it can't be that I have something really wrong with me with this annoying pain in the foot I've been having. I mean what are the chances. Well....freaking crappity, crap crap. After an examination, a little chat and giving vials and vials of blood. Turns out I have freaking rheumatoid arthritis. Get the freak out of here. Like I need this after declaring it the best year of my life and to the DH no less? This sucks butt.
Visions of me being even more overweight than I am, having yet more migraines and walking with a cane flashed through my mind and I just wanted to sob. I know it's crazy but my toes curled in pain and all I could think of was how much more would my butt spread? I know vain right? This is a disease and I'm thinking of my butt spreading more but people it's already big and I don't want one side eye here from any skinny ass reading this. Keep it to yourself until you walk in my bread craving shoes.
Then the pain starts in my head and I try to breathe it away because stress doesn't help migraines and I don't need a weekend of throwing up on top of things. Then I started to think of the DH and how he will react to this arthritis news. Great, yet another thing wrong with me. I just got through the breast surgery in December and thanking God that was over and ok but the scars are still there and I seem to always complain of head pain and now foot pain and here is something else and new chronic pain without a cure. The mind races. There is always something with me. Jeez.
Is this want I get declaring it the best year of my life? Freaking crap.
I told the DH and he was stunned and sad and had all the emotions I thought he would after being with him over 20 years. He came home with a long face and was quiet. Too quiet which kills me.
Then later I ventured to the basement man cave and I asked the DH how can I be called Rumy (my new self given nickname) and still have the best year of my life? He gave a weak smile and said I have to find a way that I still can. I then named him Luby and told him he'll have to keep me lubed up and mobile. He laughed at that and said how could I be so crazy when this was so serious. But I knew I had to make him laugh even though I'm now scared as sh*# because I hate when he gets withdrawn and I see that fear in his eyes when I get sick. So I told him again that his job was to keep me mobile so my legs were um, lets just say always active. It was good to see him laugh since he came home so sad after I called him with the doctors news.
So here is another new day. Yesterday I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis for real real and This Is The Best Year Of My Life.
It's good to be 41. Right? RIGHT?!
Love you, Love me,