Day 105: That's my actual personality

You lucky folks are in for a treat... not one, but TWO whole blog posts in the same day. I know it's hard, but try to contain your excitement. 

Being an arthritis warrior is not exactly the dream job I hoped for as I was growing up. Air hostess, yes. Policewoman, yes. Ambassador for 'my nan's got that' disease, not quite. But now, I wouldn't change it for the world. I realise this might seem like a bit of a crazy thing to say. Being in pain everyday sucks, yes, but believe it or not after ten years I've actually more or less got used to it. And I get to turn my shitty situation into something positive: as an ambassador for two amazing charities I get the opportunity to share my story and spread the word that actually, I'm not 'too young for that', and help to ensure other unlucky ones get diagnosed quicker than I was. Being an arthritis warrior has lead me to be one of the busiest people on the planet, as I shall hereby demonstrate with the rundown of my week. 

Getting RA led me to study medicine. I saw the amazing work that my doctors, nurses, and physiotherapists did to get me to be well and to walk again that I decided I wanted to help others, too. Besides, I spent so much time in hospitals that I thought, well I might as well bloody work here too. So here I am, Cat who was quite happy with her career in retail, training to be a doctor. It's hard. It's tiring. It takes up most of my time. But it's totally worth it. 

So I have spent a lot of my week on placement. But in between colposcopy clinics and hysterectomies I have also managed to find time to celebrate my 24th birthday. By Saturday morning the situation in my mouth had finally started to calm down, and I had just five ulcers left, albeit still very painful and very determined to cling on. By Sunday morning they had disappeared. Not a trace. Nada. Now I'm not saying it was the alcohol that I consumed on Saturday night that cured me of my week-long-plight, but, well, I'm pretty convinced it was the alcohol that cured me of my week-long-plight. But whatever it was, THEY'RE GONE, and I'm finally back on solid foods again. I will not be so much as looking at a yoghurt for a very long time. I had an amazing birthday, complete with surprise party organised by my BFF and quality time spent with mama Bull. The best present however came on my actual birthday when I woke up to find... NO PAIN. Yep, you heard me right. For the first time in ten years I woke up PAIN FREE. I know, I couldn't believe it either. I did some weird and wonderful hand movements just to make sure, but nope, nothing. Best. Day. Ever. Thank you Rituximab, and thank you steroid injections. Not going to lie, there were some tears shed on Monday morning; I have dreamed that this day would come for ten years but never thought it would actually happen. So now the next game I shall be playing is 'guess how long this is going to last for'. Feel free to play along too. 

Yesterday I met up for dinner with Sam, my friend and fellow RA sufferer/arthritis warrior. Remember me saying I was finally going to do something about the whole arthritis-education-thing? Well Sam and I are working on a campaign to whack this problem over the head once and for all. That's all I'm saying... for now. 

And finally, today my awareness raising took me on a road trip to... Wigan. I am taking part in a BBC1 documentary about medical breakthroughs talking about my hip replacement and how it has changed my life (don't set your Sky+ to record just yet, it's to be shown in the Spring). And change my life it has; had it not been for that surgery I would be in a wheelchair right now and I would not be training to be a doctor. Anyway, this hospital in Wigan was the location of the first ever hip replacement and, without giving too much away, I had the pleasure of meeting the guy who was trained by the guy who pioneered that first ever surgery, and got to see various artifacts involved in the process. The science geek in me had a ball. The RA sufferer in me had a reality check. When, at 19-years-old, I was told my hip was damaged beyond repair, I took it for granted that I could have it replaced, no questions asked, hip hip hooray. But had it not been for this pioneering surgery, my life would be a hell of a lot shitter right now. Sir John Charnley, you're a bloody legend. 

The legend himself, Sir John Charnley.

The guy who was trained by the legend guy was lovely, ridiculously clever, and clearly passionate about all things hip. However, he said something which sadly reminded me of how patients feelings are way too often low on some doctors' list of priorities. So there we are, in between takes, casually talking about me having arthritis (what else?). He asks me if I'm on steroids, to which I reply that I am. And that's when he says this:

"Yes, I can tell just by looking at you. People taking steroids have a certain look. And personality, too." 

I could have burst into tears there and then. One of the few good things about RA is that it's not something you can generally see. If I didn't tell people, nobody would be able to tell I have it. Or so I thought. Apparently my face gives me away. Steroids unfortunately make you gain weight, particularly around the face. I am very self-conscious when it comes to my face weight as there's nothing I can do about it - I've been forced into taking medication by a bitch of a disease that has no cure and I can't stop taking them anytime soon. So basically, for all intent and purposes, he as good as told me I have a fat face. Way to make me even more self-conscious. And as for the personality part, well apparently people who take steroids become very restless and hyper. THAT'S MY ACTUAL PERSONALITY. So in one big fat sentence, he's managed to slag off my face AND my personality. Now I'm sure he's an absolutely bloody brilliant surgeon and a lovely person, but for God's sake, Prof, have a bit more consideration for my feelings next time. And that goes to all doctors actually. I'm a human being as well as a disease, remember that. 

Love,

Cat x