When most people think of someone having arthritis they think of older ones, those with deep laugh lines, gray hair, of retirement age...very, VERY rarely do they ever think about someone who's just barely starting to show any age...not even in her 30s, still just a pup...not a gray hair, that will be mentioned - honestly I haven't noticed any, Brian may tease, but until I notice them, they don't count.
I wasn't even in my 20s yet when I was first "suspected" of having arthritis by a doctor. Of course in those days there wasn't much my doctor didn't find wrong with me - ulcers, a heart condition, arthritis, depression, I don't even remember what all I was both diagnosed with or treated for. Every couple of weeks I'd go in for my follow-up over some new med he'd given me and he'd change my diagnosis & drugs. In the end I just turned out to be pregnant - thus accounting for the heart murmur, mood swings, and stomach issues, maybe a few other things in there too, but I honestly lost count. The only thing that I was diagnosed with that was not predominately a result of my pregnancy was the arthritis.
I was 13 when I fell off the roof of the barn, tons of bruising and swelling, but otherwise I'd be alright, no stitches, no broken bones...but due to the swelling there was a good chance I'd develop arthritis in my neck and back. When I was 15 I was assisting with hauling brush off of a tree that was laid across the ground, my foot became caught under the tree when it rolled and dropped, from about 2 feet off the ground - the resulting severe swelling and pulled tendons and ligaments gave way to the onset of more arthritis to set in. Age 17 I slammed a minivan into a tree at speeds in excess of 60mph, causing further issues with my back, shoulders, left knee and hip. Barely a year later I fell down a steep flight of stairs, with the aid of a cat racing up the stairs, tore the ligaments and tendons in my left shoulder, dislocated my left hip, in addition to other scrapes and bruises. It likely didn't help many matter that for my early 20s I was married to a completely abusive asshole.
So, here I sit, just barely 27 years old, and there are many times throughout the day I can barely stand on my own two feet and be able to trust them to keep me standing, I stay in constant fear that they're going to turn on me and just throw me into the floor, or that the pain will just be too much to bear. I fear picking up my daughter because I know that at any time I'll lose use of my hands and arms. I am thankful for the fact that my right side is a bit more stable than the left side, but with the right side often having to pull double duty I'm afraid it's going to catch up twice as fast.
I am no longer able to write like I used to, it used to be nothing for me to hand write a small book, or even draw a complete picture book for my son...nowadays, I'm lucky if I can I get through with writing the grocery list without my hands cramping. Typing isn't as hard on me as it really doesn't involve a lot, and when worse comes to worse I still know how to just peck at the keys I want, but it's not the same.
It sucks, severely. The different weather fronts severely affect me, to the point even that I am often unable to sleep or just bite my lip hard to try to deflect the actual pain. It just makes it really hard to do the things I want to do and know it affects more than I want to admit it does. *sigh*
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