This morning I went to the ortho to follow-up on my shoulder and knee. My shoulder isn’t better even after an injection two weeks ago. My knee pain is some of the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. Last night it took three hydrocodone pills, ice, elevation, and plenty of tears to get my pain manageable. Earlier this week I called my new rheumatologist’s office to see if they had any cancellation spots, for the millionth time. She’s out of the office this week, so that little glimmer of hope got annihilated. I now have to fit Physical Therapy into my life to try to get my right knee strong enough to have surgery on the other knee.
I’m tired. I’m tired of taking countless doses of pain medication. I’m tired of taping my joints into place every day. I’m tired of swollen, gross looking hands. I’m tired of being nauseous from the cocktails of medication flowing through my body. I’m tired of limping. I’m tired of wearing compression garments and braces. I’m tired of injecting methotrexate and the hair loss and canker sores that come with it. I’m tired of seeing a doctor of some sort every week, sometimes more than one appointment each week. I’m tired of xrays and MRIs that show damage that I can’t change and that’s occurring right now in my body while I wait for a rheumatologist to see me. I’m tired of spending money on this disease in the form of copays, prescriptions, tape, medical bills. I’m tired of all the tears.
I don’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. I see pain and tears. I miss my life without this disease. I am finally mourning it after five years and I’m worried this mourning period will last a long time.