An Hour in My Life with RA




#RAblog is a seven day event from September 21-27, 2015. The brainchild of Rick Phillips, the goal of this week is to raise awareness about rheumatoid arthritis and build community. Up on over to the RADiabetes site to learn more about #RABlog Week and find links to other participants. Day 1's prompt was to write about an hour in my life with RA.

I say goodbye to my attendant after my mid-day booking and head back to my desk. It’s where I spend most of my days (and part of the evenings, too), writing, checking in with the community on social media, reading new articles, editing photos, and all the other bits and pieces that go into what I do.

My brain is foggy. I had painsomnia last night and had to take meds to fall asleep. Inevitably, that means I’m zombified the next day, walking (metaphorically) around in a daze, not quite connecting to the world, and having the hardest time focusing. Everything I do takes twice as long and trying to put an article together is like pulling teeth. Still, it has to be done.

As I write, I find the groove and all of a sudden, it flows. I love when it does that, it’s as if what I write exists somewhere inside me and I’m just transcribing it. It’s magic.

It’s also magic for another reason. It distracts me from the pain that’s part of my life 24/7. While I write, it murmurs in the background and I’m vaguely aware of whatever spot or, usually, places get the starring role that day. Today, it’s my SI joint and my left shoulder. Come to think of it, my right ankle is definitely also clamouring for the spotlight. But the writing overshadows them and allows me to disappear into a place where I move nimbly — well, most of the time. Perhaps not so much on the zombie days.

And then it’s time for lunch. I save my document, shut down Dragon NaturallySpeaking, and back away from the desk. And with the end of distraction, it’s the moment when the pain takes centre stage.

Light... Camera ... Action!

I need a painkiller.

  

Comments

Dana Olson said…
Lene,
Thank you for your words. I have been diagnosed just over a year, and so much of what you say rings so true for me. I am struggling to rewrite my whole life. I loved how you explain your pain and how writing takes you away.

You are inspirational. Life is not a commercial. Your words make us (me) realize this is the reality but its do-able.

Thank you