Nightly Ritual

This is my nightly ritual. I have to break out the ice pack and wrap it around my feet to help with the RA. 10 minutes on and 10 minutes off with each foot back and forth for about 30 minutes to help undo some of the damage of the day. It's not fun and the ice is torture sometimes but it's something I find a necessity especially on a day when I've been running around or walking a lot. I will say on some of the really hot days days we've been having I have been finding a bit of relief in the ice. That said I do hope this isn't something that lasts too long in my life and that the meds will give me more relief soon. The jury is still out on the nausea deal. Getting more tolerable, I think.

Hey, at least the ice thing it's a designated time that I HAVE to be off my feet. That's not too bad. I should add a facial to it or something once a week. Just thought of that one. NICE.



Do you have a nightly ritual that takes you off your feet? Keep it clean now. I wasn't going there. LOL.


Best,

Kwana

Look At Your Bag

Now look back at me... now look back at your bag...now look. back. at. me.

Nuff said.

Happy Hump Day!

Love you, Love me,


Kwana

Perspective over Position

Thanks so much to all of you that came by and commented and followed this weekend. It's so appreciated. I feel do feel the love. Thank YOU!!!


So it really is a little mad me calling this the Best Year Of My Life. Come on, where do I get off? I mean nothing has changed from last year to make THIS year the best year of my life as a matter of fact with this RA diagnosis it’s now gotten slightly worse off. Besides, there has been no book deal or magic money windfall and not even a nice 10 pound weight loss to throw me a vanity bone, but still, I’m not ready to give up on my Best Year Of My Life thing just yet.


The way I see it it’s all about perspective over position right about now. I can’t immediately change my position. That's something that has to happen over time and it’s something that I can’t totally control myself anyway with the business I’m in being so subjective, but something that I can change, on even a moment to moment basis, is my perspective. And I do firmly believe perspective is reality to some extent (depending on just how wacky you really are). So with that being said ...I’m still, despite no change in my position, having The Best Year Of My Life. At least at this moment as I type this.
I am a Gemini you know.

On the RA front I got a pain in my toe in church yesterday that was like OMG! Knocked the breath out of me. I hate it when that happens. So not cute and all. Also I've been taking the Paquenil for a few days now and the first 2 days were ok but now I have this off sense of nausea that is not cool and I can't tell if it's from the constant humidity in NY or from the meds. Either way I really don't like it and have to watch it closely and talk to the doctor about it because I feel really tired and totally yucksville. Fun. Joy.

Love You, Love Me,

Kwana

Welcome You.

Hello all of you stopping by for the first time. Welcome to my new blog hangout. Those friends that came over from KwanaWrites thanks so much for stopping by. Now I'll still be there with Jack all the time as that is my first home. So no worries.

I like to think of Becoming True Me as my vacation spot. That room of my own where I can get away from it all. The secret cottage where no one can find me (but you did, cagey you!).





I hope you like it here. This is where I'll discuss my feeling on life, dealing with this new thing to me called RA and my life long struggles with migraines. Along with that there will be some twin and life stuff (hot mess) thrown in because that's just how I roll. But it's mostly about me and being my true self more and more each day. I hope you like me and all my many layers. I also hope that along the way you see a bit of yourself uncovered too.

Have fun and please read the few posts I have and give your thoughts and comments. This is a love filled and friendly zone.

Now this may not be an every day blog but feel free to be a follower so you can get updates on when I'm here. Thanks again for stopping by my secret cottage.








Love you, Love me,
Kwana





Shed from Summerwood Products.

From Serf to Running the Turf

This cover story from New York Magazine All Joy And No Fun: Why Parents Hate Parenting by Jennifer Senior hit lots of sore spots and very well if you ask me. Click here to read the article.

Oh and we do know that stress is a huge factor when it comes to chronic pain right. So lemme give a Woo Saaa right now and breathe.


As a mother of boy/girl teen twins I often wish those with the sly judgmental looks of “she’s soooo not together. What’s she getting so riled up about?” could walk or drive a mile in my overrun Target flats. I mean it's hard, it's dang hard to handle all the day to day (up, out, breakfast, lunch, school, sports, dance, drive, drive, gas, drive, pickup, homework, dinner, oh and write too) and even harder when there's a irate know it all kid giving you grief and you're somehow supposed to keep your cool through it all and look good doing it. Pla-eaze. No wonder there is that anti-depression med commercial on a freakin loop. (BTW- could that thing get taken off. It depresses me more than anything else. Ugh)

Though the article is mostly the doom and gloom of the very real drudgery of parenting in these over stimulated, over competitive, keeping up with The Joneses modern times, it does end on a good note.

What is real happiness? Is it happiness in the moment or happiness over time? Is it having a purpose in life? Not to sound too Oprah-ish but… One thing I know for sure is that in having these children I do have a purpose in the moment and over time.

Hmm… now I wonder if my twitter hashtag of #PS which stands for parenting sucks will ever really take off? I doubt it. Most people just can’t keep it that real.

Love You, Love Me,
Kwana

P.S.
I hit the gym again today after a 1 day pain break and could barely tackle the bike the right foot pain was so bad but I made it 25 minutes. Go me. Now for Ice.

article and images from New York magazine

Solider of Love

So I have now started on the medical route with the RA and so far ,so far. It’s day 1 and the doctor says it will take a month to see any results with the Paquenil. I must watch how it effects my eyes. What the freak?! My eyes? Of course I have the generic version and still my prescription with ins was 50.00. What's with that one? Big sigh there.

In other more proactive news… I still have a gym membership. How about that? So with headphones in hand I made my way back to Planet Fitness to see if there was a bike with my name on it. I can’t remember the last time I was there but they welcomed me back with open arms and I just had to pay a 10.00 fee and I was in. I did 25 minutes on the bike with 2 elderly men totally smoking me like a pair of Lance Armstrongs on either side. Side eye to them. Oh well, at least I was in the house. Then I thought I’d give the elliptical a try. I got 8 minutes in before my bad arthritic toe sent jolts of pain up my leg. I soldiered on another 2 minutes and gave up to do arm work for a bit. With visions of Michelle O racing through my head.

Oh well, at least I know I have a membership and a place to go.

Maybe I should keep Sade’s Solider of Love in my mind for this battle.

Love you, love me,
Kwana

The Best Year Of My Life...

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,

Kwana

Come On Get Happy

So look who's back. Me. Yep it's me again blogging about me. Starting over once again. What brings me here? Well frustration of course which is what usually brings me to any new diary. Why am I frustrated you ask. Well, it's now the end of the kids school year (that didn't turn out like we hoped) They are now juniors and I have college for 2 to think about. Still no book sale but a new agent in my friend Louise and Diva Slave is out in submission so I'm as neurotic as ever...
Oh and I just turned 41 and had a physical that sucked butt so yeah I'm back and I'm blah.

But I'm tired of the blah (which is not any news of course either) and I really want to do something about it (no news there) but what?

Cliche I know but today is the 1st day of the rest of my life another thought do I really want to feel like this a year from now at 42. Action is needed. Time to get happy.

So it's Me some self-help books and no real set plan but get happy come hell or high water. Time to break out of this funk. Wish me luck. Oh yeah, this blog is private right now so I'll just wish myself luck and add a kiss just for me.

Karl Brulloff. Italian Woman Blowing a Kiss. 1826

Good luck Kwana. I love you!