As I type I sit here in self made misery. My body it would seem is reminding me of it’s limitations. Running is something I do once a week at the moment if I’m lucky, because to be honest taking a couple of neurofen twenty minutes before I go just so I can run seems a little ridiculous.
This morning I ventured to the supermarket and it was all I could do to concentrate and get the things I needed without sitting down half way through for a rest and a cry.
Sitting down hurts. Standing up hurts. Laying down hurts. Making a cup of tea takes time and effort, and it hurts.
I am not looking for pity. I am not looking for sympathy. It is what it is. I have what I have and should consider myself lucky it only flairs every now and then. Rheumatoid Arthritis. I hate you this week.
Hate is a strong word, but at the moment it’s apt. I am in constant pain. It is all consuming. I am sore and stiff and slow, slow, slow. Everything I do takes effort. I pop pain meds like they’re smarties and I worry about the up coming Run for the Kids 14km event. I am so unprepared.
But I need to remind myself that life is good. I should be happy that most weeks I can run easily, do the thing I love with sure footed ease. I need to remind myself that this will pass. The pain will become an everyday whisper and life will go on.
I should marvel that my legs carry me the five, six, seven… ten… twenty one kilometres they do without much complaint usually. Should marvel that I live in a country where I can get the drugs I need at a reasonable cost and can, most days keep it all at bay. I should be thankful of the flat screen TV Hubby bought for the bedroom and snuggle under the doona with the remote and my favourite movies for company. Should be happy I can never get enough of watching Pride and Prejudice, Love Actually and Sense and Sensibility.
I should be happy that Hubby takes over all the house work when I am like this instead of us sharing the load. Should be happy I have heating and pyjamas and a good supply of tea.
And I will be fine again I tell myself. I promise. I will be soon. It’s just that right now it hurts and I’m tired. I’ll build a bridge held together with with pain killers, doonas and movies, and get over myself soon. And in the meantime I’ll listen to music, soothe my soul with it’s tones and words. Tomorrow is another day.