A few months ago I was invited to attend the ReAlTalk conference put on by Pfizer (they paid for my travel & time but that’s all, all opinions are mine). When I was invited, I knew that my heart and mind wanted to attend, but my body? That was another story.
I had and am still having a rough recovery from knee surgery and just daily life with Rheumatoid Arthritis. The thought of going to New York City was exciting yet terrifying. How much pain would I be in? Would my doctors even allow me to go? How would I travel with crutches?
Guess what? I went.
No, I didn’t through caution to the wind and say “forget you Arthritis”! Whether I like it or not, Arthritis always has a vote and if I ignore that, it will rig the election (hmm, let’s not talk about that). But I decided I would be as proactive as I could and use the tools I have- tons of KT tape, compression gear, my braces, ice, pain relief medications, and my crutches.
Between getting settled in my hotel room and our group dinner, I wore my compression socks, filled my ice bucket, and used the fantastic hotel pillows to elevate my legs. I drank a lot of water and made sure I had plenty of electrolyte replacement powder to add to my water bottle.
The next day, I opted to take the provided car to our meeting space (One World Trade, whaaaat?!) which was just a few blocks. I used instant ice packs during the meeting and accepted the offer of a footstool to keep my legs up. When returning to the hotel, I continued my RICE protocol (rest, ice, compression, elevation).
I didn’t always do as well as I could though. JFK is a gigantic airport (seriously, please learn from my experience). I knew this because I came through JFK for my flight in. I had a rough time making it from my gate to baggage claim on Tuesday so you would think I would. I thought I was prepared for Thursday. I wasn’t. I didn’t ask for a wheelchair. Why? I’m not really not sure. Getting to the end of the TSA line was rough and an agent actually lectured me about not getting a wheelchair. She was right. I spent a good 30 minutes standing with my crutches only to make it through security and have a LONG walk ahead of me to get to my gate. By the time I reached my gate, my ankles couldn’t be seen beneath the swelling, my hand ached from pushing through the crutch.
Back to my pride. Wheelchairs aren’t just sitting at the airport for show, they actually work and there are actual employees whose jobs are to push them. There is no reason I shouldn’t have asked for one and I’m disappointed that I didn’t. Please learn from me!
When my husband asked if I would go see Sturgill Simpson with him Friday night, I didn’t think about it, I chose to say yes. I found where the handicap parking was (that I didn’t even know existed) and spent the day doing the RICE thing. I had an amazing time and know how much it meant to my husband to have me with him.
Today, I’m not going to lie, I could be better, physically. But mentally, emotionally, I’m fulfilled. I’m happy. I worked, I traveled, I hugged, I cried, I laughed. I lived.