Aches and Pains

Saw the Pain Clinic in May and was prescribed Amitriptyline for neuropathic pain from the arthritis and phantom limb pain from, well the missing leg. This is on top of the Co-Codomol and Meloxicam (a switch from the previous years and years of Diclofenac). For a few weeks, it was working well but now, I seem to have suddenly seized up; like an abandoned bicycle on a canal towpath, my joints have rusted solid.

I rang the surgery to make an appointment with my GP only to find she had left last week! Still, got an appointment with her replacement next week and hope I don't have to go through the whole sorry story again, or I'll need  alot longer than the statutory, alloted 10 minutes. Let's hope that when this one refers me to a surgeon, she mentions that I only have one leg, which does affect my walking style and will affect my physiotherapy needs.

The arthritis has really galloped on in the past few months. Not just the pain, which has reached K2 proportions, towering over me day and night but the stiffness, lack of general mobility and utter exhaustion that just a few steps or simple tasks can produce.

Cooking is something I now have to do sitting down, I've given up ironing things and the hoovering has to wait until the OH does it. The bins don't get put out if he isn't here (the binmen never come in the garden to fetch them), the whole process of living is exhausting and almost beyond me.

Thankfully, I can use the computer, so stay in touch with friends and family via social media (and write this blog).

So, what's changed? I don't know for sure, does arthritis accelerate like a mad Ferrari to the finish line, have I over done it by extending the date for the THR, should I have had it done earlier in the year, am I invaded by mutant arthritis bugs, chomping away on my bones? Quite possibly.

Yesterday, I decided that I should go and do some shopping but two aisles in, I had to sit on a box of piled up potatoes. Not elegant or comfortable but there was no other seat - supermarkets don't have seats in convenient places, or inconvenient for that matter. Two more isles and I was perched on a pile of cheap lager, two more and I sank into a large pile of soap powder boxes.

Buying the shopping (not a full weekly load - just a couple of bags), getting it into and out of the car and then into the cupboards took 4 hours and I was a jibbering wreck. Unable to move, cook, make a cup of coffee or even sit comfortably.

Waited an hour for the water to heat and then sank in the bath until it went cold.

Whatever is going on with my hip, knee, ankle, muscles and bones, I don't know but this has to stop.

So I'm going to go and beg for the THR, as soon as it can be done and see what else she can do to help me to move more than 5 yards without shrieking, feeling faint or being in constant pain.

A day on crutches

Firstly smile: always smile. This is not just for my benefit but mostly for those who see me. A smiling cripple is far more socially acceptable than a non-smiling one.

A smile means you're ok, they need not worry, feel guilt, open the door or carry your books. A smile on the face of a person born on crutches is their passport to ignorance and no delay.

A smile is essential.

Also essential is to be well dressed. Good designer clothes, excellent make-up, nice shoes and of course a good bag. A well dressed cripple breaks the rules, confounds them and more importantly, it is armour, self defence, a strong weapon in your ability to face the world.

Dress well, smell nice, wear good lingerie.

This is why Arthritis is a performance. It is not enough to act normal, act fine. You must thesp every moment, be as gracious as Noel Coward, as English as the man in a Bowler Hat, 27th in line in the queue for a stamp, as theatrical in your delivery of your life as Alison Steadman in Abigails Party. If you act your little heart out every single day; head held high, pride on your arm, you're equal.

Never let them see you cry, take medication or be less than perfect.

When work ends, you leave and there comes a moment every day, when you round the corner to the car and the air is sucked from your body. Your bones become jelly, your self esteem zero and your energy nil.

Sitting in the car, waiting for the pain to stop enough to be able to drive can be a long wait. On the journey home, every bone will scream at the restriction of sitting still, every muscle will ache, complain and twitch, every sinew will burn with fire.

Immersion in the deepest, hottest bath, enjoying the benefits of zero G for a while is joy.

Each day is a performance and as I said, no actress could ever put on such as performance as we who suffer from Arthritis. We are the elite.