I'm Worn

I'm going to be quite frank: I haven't seen a rheumatologist since October, and I don't intend to again for a while. I have the opportunity to call and make an appointment and probably get one in two weeks or so, but I've chosen not to. 

I know you can't predict the future, but I think I have clear judgement when I say it's not worth the pain, frustration and guilt. The last two doctors I've seen have told me I'm completely fine and whatever pain I have is normal, aging muscle strain or in my head, but probably both. Although I did not realise that the pain of aging begins its onset before ripe age of 18, I will take it. Nobody who can really help me cares. And that's okay.

My arthritis is honestly not as bad as most people's. Sure, I hurt. But I'm not in a wheelchair, nor have I ever needed pred. I walk a lot, go to classes, hang out with friends, attend religious services and studies, and just explore my beautiful city and that is way more than most people with arthritis can say. Of course I want to slice my heels off and feel like my spine is actually a metal rod. But symptoms don't matter.

Proof matters. And I just don't have all too much of it at all. A few nails are in psoriatic remission, my jaw is damaged, I'm very stiff and sometimes I swell a little bit (I almost never notice), but what more do I have? My blood tests are clean, my scans are clear (as far as I know) and I am able to move without severe pain. I would love to be cared for. I would love to know where my kidney pain and swelling comes from. But I don't- because nothing showed up, even on the most invasive of tests.

I'm hurting. I admit that completely. I'm hurting and little old ladies sometimes

walk faster than me. But I'm just not bad enough to be cared for. I have no evidence, and doctors refuse to believe in what they cannot see clearly. 

I don't really want it to be this way. Sometimes I'm really close to calling to schedule an appointment with a new doctor, but I'm scared. Sometimes I'm really close to asking my Bible study to include me in our prayer intentions, but praying for the homeless is a better cause. Sometimes I don't feel like I can get out of bed in the morning, and I would like to lie in: but that's a reality for so many other people and it would be selfish of me. And really, when people complain about how sore they are after working out or telling me that I shouldn't be so weak, I'd really like to rip their head off, but that would probably land me in prison. 

Excuses, excuses. I know. Look at all these wonderful excuses. There are always going to be so many of them and so many reasons to use them. Does that mean I should? No. And shouldn't I follow my own advice and fight and advocate for myself? Yes. And isn't arthritis always serious, and to never give up in finding treatment and respect as a patient? Absolutely. I've thought of all these things, and I preach them.

I know my risks. And honestly, maybe the risks are worth it: A flare is obvious proof, right? Nope, but I feel like then it will be worth a try. I've had episodes of being unable to move my neck and shoulder, and maybe that will do the trick. Until then, I'm doing this by myself. I don't want it to be this way, but I don't see any other way it can be that won't completely destroy me. I'm worn. I'm dragging. All I want is to sleep away the tiredness I carry in my heart, but no amount of rest will heal it's weariness.