Day 202: It's a good job I like hospitals

It's a good job I actually like hospitals because over the last couple of days I've barely spent any time anywhere else. 

Yesterday I went to see the surgeon who performed my hip replacement four years ago. As I've mentioned before I find myself playing a bit of a waiting game now. For the average person who has a ceramic hip replacement like mine it is expected to last up to 10 years before it needs replacing again. However the average person who has a ceramic hip replacement is about 70, not 20 like I was. They're not as active as someone in their 20s, they're not training to be a doctor, and they almost certainly aren't running marathons or climbing mountains. So noone can really predict how long it's going to be before it will need replacing again. I keep expecting my hip to need replacing again any day now. I guess I hope that if I expect it to happen then it won't come as such a shock when the inevitable does eventually happen and therefore it won't leave me as devastated as I was five years ago. But the truth is being told you need a hip replacement is always going to be devastating no matter how expected it is. 

So as you can probably imagine I was pretty nervous walking into that clinic yesterday. Memories of five years ago came screaming back as I walked past a man limping out of a consultation room sobbing his heart out. So I had an xray (along with standard "you're a bit young to have had a hip replacement aren't you?" reaction from the radiographer) and headed over to hear my fate. And guess what... 

I STILL HAVE TWO GOOD HIPS. 

What's more my surgeon assures me that they will stay that way for a long time yet, as long as I take good care of them that is. It's a good job I'm not running any marathons any time soon then isn't it...oh wait... Anyway I was so happy I genuinely skipped out of the clinic that day, you know, BECAUSE I CAN. 

Following a five hour coach journey up the M1 and about as many hours sleep I found myself making my way, yet again, to what has pretty much become my second home up here in Leeds:

Yep, today I spent the day on ward 8 at Chapel Allerton Hospital having another joint juice infusion, and today my poor friend Isla had the misfortune of having to keep me company for seven hours. I use the word 'misfortune' because a ward full of people, most of whom are at least twice my age, having seven hour infusions is not exactly the most exciting place in the world. And Isla kindly agrees to keep me company and what do I do? I fall asleep don't I. On the plus side though I can finally add successfully navigating a drip stand into a toilet cubicle to my extensive list of talents. All the staff on the ward are lovely, however my fave nurse is Debby and I'm pretty sure I'm secretly her fave too. She hates having her photo taken but next time I have promised her I WILL get a picture of her for my blog...even if I have to resort to chasing her round the ward whilst still attached to my drip. 

The only thing putting a downer on the last couple of days is my stomach. Not being able to eat properly has made me so depressed I wore the same outfit twice this week. For the first time ever I didn't mind being weighed in hospital today because the weight is literally just dropping off. This evening I thought I'd celebrate the last couple of days by treating myself to a McDonalds. I bought so much food that even the fatties on the table next to me were giving me judgmental looks. But could I eat it? Could I fuck. One bite of my burger and a handful of chips later I was in too much pain to battle on. First Nandos, now Maccy Ds - gastritis you are seriously taking the piss now. 

So as you can see RA has pretty much taken over my week so far, but for once I don't care because I HAVE TWO GOOD HIPS.

Love,

Cat x

Day 198: Publicizing my private life

Since I've started this blog I've had lots of lovely messages of support and encouragement from both close friends and complete strangers alike. I've had people telling me that what I'm doing is a good thing, because before reading my blog they had no idea that young people could get arthritis or what it's like to live with it. And I've had other young sufferers of the disease getting in touch to tell me that reading my blog has given them encouragement to not let it ruin their lives, and that they no longer feel so alone in their crappy RA world. It's hearing things like that that make me feel like this is all worthwhile. However, unfortunately I also receive messages like this:

"You know what, you're not the only one with life compromising illnesses, Cat. I just choose not to publicize my private life."

Errr, sorry, you think I don't know that I'm not the only person with a shit disease? You think I don't realize that I'm not the only person with RA? You think I bore myself silly talking about my disease all the freaking time FOR FUN? Funny enough I don't actually want everyone to know I have a chronic illness, or to know me as 'that girl with arthritis'. I am doing this for a reason: to raise awareness, to get people talking about it, to get people knowing the symptoms. I can't stop someone getting RA, but if it means that even just one person gets diagnosed earlier then I'll know it's been worthwhile 'publicizing my private life.' Oh, and as if that wasn't offensive enough, said person spelt 'you're' wrong, too. 

But to everyone who doesn't think that I'm self centred and attention seeking, thank you for your continued support. Thank you for your kind messages. And most importantly thank you for reading.

Day 195: The 'RA diet'

I am now into day 10 of being unable to eat properly. In a bid to get some food down me mama Bull treated me and my sister to a Nandos lunch the other day, but I was still in such a bad way that I only ordered one side with my burger. ONE. And I didn't even finish the burger. Now most of the time I'm surprisingly ok with having RA - after almost 10 years I'm pretty used to it. But every so often I go through a 'pissed off' phase. I am currently in the middle of one of these phases. Mess with me all you want RA, but don't come between me and my Nandos. On the plus side I've lost 3kg over the last two weeks, so every cloud and all that... In fact my friends have started referring to it as the 'RA diet'. So if any of you have made New Year's resolutions to lose some weight, just get RA. Simple. 

There is another reason why I'm currently in a 'pissed off' phase though. On Monday I did my first training run of 2012. I only ran 5K. 5K is easy. But seemingly in retaliation for my attempt at some exercise RA decided to strike again and I woke up yesterday morning in excruciating pain and unable to weight bare on my left knee. Not the end of the world, I just limped around all day and moaned to my friends a bit. However by the time I woke up this morning my other knee had joined in the party too. And now at time of writing I have pain in my ankle and wrist too, so it looks like I might be heading towards a full blown flare. It's ok though, I'll just comfort eat to cheer myself up. Oh wait, that's right, I CAN'T BLOODY EAT CAN I. 

Love,
Cat x

Day 193: Someone get me a stomach transplant

You may be wondering what my last post was about. Or you may not be. Either way I'm going to explain anyway. 

2012 hasn't exactly got off to the amazing start I'd hoped for. It was during the shit week that I've just had that I came across that quote, a quote which I don't think could possibly sum up my life any better right now. Since the day I was diagnosed my whole life has become a fight. And last week was no exception... 

Over the last couple of weeks I had started to get pain in my abdomen, radiating all the way through to my back. For a couple of weeks it was nothing more than a bit of a discomfort, nothing I couldn't handle (after all, being an arthritis warrior tends to give you a pretty high pain threshold). But by last Tuesday I could no longer eat anything without being doubled up in pain and I couldn't sleep because I was in agony. So on Tuesday evening I found myself, once again, in the A&E department of the Royal Surrey County Hospital and, much to the amusement of BFF Katie, on all fours with my head buried in a pillow. Doctors quickly confirmed my suspicions that I was having yet another episode of gastritis caused by some of the medication I take for my RA and I was kept in overnight for iv fluids, iv morphine, and anti-sickness treatment. I was allowed home on Wednesday with a big stash of Tramadol which basically means I have been spaced out, hallucinating, and projectile vomming ever since. But at least it's helping with the pain. However I'm still not managing to eat anything, and those of you who know me will know how much I love my food and therefore how much this is killing me. Today I couldn't even finish a six inch Subway sandwich. SIX INCH. AND I walked past the bakery aisle in Sainsbury's without even so much as looking at the doughnuts. Someone get me a stomach transplant pronto. This episode also means that over the next couple of weeks I will have to have another endoscopy to see whether or not I have developed any stomach ulcers. For anyone that doesn't know, an endoscopy is that procedure where doctors stick a camera down your throat to have a look at your stomach and small intestine. I've had it done twice before and after the last time I swore I'd never have one again. RA, you're a bitch. 

So once again I find myself fighting back against my disease... and I don't plan on giving up anytime soon.

Love,

Cat x

"A disabled person who fights back is not disabled... but inspired." - Sir Douglas Bader

I am fighting back.