Half-life...

 There's something else cluttering up the big table at HH HQ, it's shiny, it's light and it's helping me get about right now!

 It folds up! Joining the 'old lady grip mat' enabling me to open jars without the aid of a butch neighbor...

 ...and the packets and packets of pills I am now on which nestle in my felted handbag.

I resorted to using a stick after waking up at 2 am on Tuesday with pain in my hip that rendered me unable to move without crying out. Like a knife being plunged into my already aching joints and then wiggled around.

 When I tell people that I'm in pain all the time I'm pretty sure that they don't really believe me. Unless you ever have been it's hard to imagine. 

I had my first meeting with the new consultant last Tuesday where he told me that the recent anti-ccp antibody test had come back as a strong positive (it's 199, anything over 59 is a strong positive) and is the first time there is actual proof of inflammation being present in me. Up to now there has been nothing, no rheumatoid factor and even I started to wonder if I was imagining it all...hearing this news was a little like little bombs going off in my brain and then landing with a thud in my heart.

So...although it's not a nice result at least it's an indication and with a referral to the pain clinic in sight, tramadol is taking the edge off right now but I've now been warned I will almost certainly never be without pain again. 

Although the x-rays of my hands show no erosion present (which is good!) and there are signs of soft tissue damage in my feet so I'm to have an MRI too. I asked Fella what having an MRI was like he replied 'boring'...he's had two!

 I've titled this post 'half-life' as that's how it feels right now - if I take enough tramadol to be comfortable I fall asleep, in the middle of the day, sitting up...I can't wear nice shoes like the gorgeous examples pictured above and as my feet become more misshapen as time goes on the choice of footwear is becoming more and more limited.

 My hands hurt all the time, I yearn to make bread - feeling the squidgy dough between my fingers...

 ...I'm fed up because I lost my grip whilst holding one of my favourite glasses. 

 The reactions I have had from people I know and who I have told about my arthritis since using my stick have opened my eyes to the fact that very few people understood. I've had reactions ranging from 'been dancing on the tables?' I wish....and 'what have you done now? 

I've done nothing, it's the cells in my body which are busy right now...

So, if you see me stick in hand and smiling, it's my brave smile, the one that stops me crying.

I hope to get the real one back soon and the other half of my life back, the one where I can get up out of bed without fear and strong painkillers. The one where I don't have to decide between having a bath and cooking a meal...both of which wear me out!

Nx

PS. After explaining the reason for the stick and arthritis I get a lot of 'head to one side' stuff!