A New Hope

It could happen tomorrow, technically today.  In a couple days it will be four weeks since my last injection.  They are calling this the "wash-out" period.  All I know is that I cannot wait for some relief.  I could be getting my first infusion today.  I've been told that I may feel immediate relief.  I cannot imagine.

Yesterday, I used a couple sprays of hairspray, the pump kind.  A couple.  My joints in my index finger felt as if I had jammed them into a wall.  Actually, it kinda reminded me of the times I caught a softball wrong and jammed my finger then.  I removed a couple of ornaments from our Christmas tree and my neck and shoulders are reminding me of those movements tonigh.  These things don't happen with healthy joints.

I am tired, exhausted.  Not as much as the week of Christmas and New Years, but more than I would like to be.  Thankfully, the weakness hasn't settled in and I am hoping that won't be the case before new treatment begins.  None of this stops me from doing all I have to do in a day.  There really isn't a choice.

These past few weeks have made it clear that the Humira injections I had been enduring over the past year, weren't doing all they could could.  I just didn't know enough to, know.  I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel.  It was doing something, but not enough.  I am more in control this time.  I have a new rheumatologist with whom, I think, there is already a better rapport with.  My second visit, he brought in another rheum from the practise.  I was sold.  This is where I need to be.  And then they said the right words for me: "and if this doesn't work, we are going to try that.  If that doesn't then this..."  They have a freaking plan!  OMG!  A plan.  In the end, if nothing works, I know I will still be better with the plan.  Something to look forward to an be hopeful for.  Nobody likes to wander down a path unprepared.  As my baby boy would say, "Dis is my spot!".  Game on!

This is a new year with new opportunities.  I cannot wait to do the simple things in life that most of us take for granted.  Who knew tapping my foot to the music could cause so much pain?  Regardless, I am very thankful for the small steps forward.  A year ago, we were all ecstatic that I could dress to go to the grocery store.  Even if I only made it there for 10 minutes. That was progress.  Now I am able to drive myself, park, shop and load the car.  That is the difference a diagnosis makes.  So very thankful.

To my friends out there who are also searching for relief and trying to take this one day at a time...and not think about what lies ahead, I cannot stress enough how together we all are in this.  Never alone, even though many times, it feel as though we are.