Skip to main content

Sleep. Creep. Leap.


It's been awhile. Did you miss me, I wonder? 

 I've been drifting about on the clouds of memory fog and forgetfulness that accompany conditions like psoriatic arthritis and fibromyalgia. (My family gets a kick out of my loopiness.) The plethora of doctor appointments and hospital stays have kept me pretty occupied, as well.

 Since autoimmune dysfunction assaulted my life, I have come to accept most things as they appear with much less stress than before. Perhaps time heals. Now if I could just remember to schedule that massage...

 Having been diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis in 2014, I am much more invested in the reality of this disease now. I have read, asked questions, written, researched, traveled and cried. Knowing what I know now, I wish I wouldn't have been so hard on myself. A gift from my daughter, Alesha, may have been the the gentle nudge I needed to truly realize this.

She gave me a rose bush for Mothers Day the same year I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis. I have never been good at roses. I try to hard. I over think it. Maybe I over think
everything. Trimming, pruning, fertilizing.

I underestimated the foundation this poor rose bush already had. Its constitution. Its presence. I wish I wouldn't have been so hard on this rose bush. I figured it out eventually.

 When I first moved to Georgia and built a home with my husband, a dear mentor of mine told me that plants have a reliable system for growth. They will sleep when they are first planted, taking their time to acclimate and settle into their surroundings. The second year they will creep, venturing out slowly , stretching their roots a bit and establishing a presence.
Finally the plant will expand it's horizons and leap into uncharted territory during the third year, having found its confidence in its new environment. Such wisdom.

 As I admire this once small, struggling plant, now flourishing and prolific with blooms each spring, I have realized something profoundly simple. Growth takes time. It comes in stages. It comes with set backs. Acceptance is a journey I have taken with bumps and roots and tangled vines. I was really mad about my diagnosis at first, then I just hung back and sat with it for awhile. I would dip my toe in and then recoil in chronic pain and fear. Then one day, things changed. More diagnosis led to the reality and need for action. Rare diseases will startle you into motion...of this I am sure. I took my baby steps toward Advocacy and began forming a more specific plan. My gifts are coming to fruition as I work as a Patient Leader and reach out with arms wide open.
Just like my rose bush, I'm leaping toward the sky, growing up and out. Soon the buds will bloom and I will see past all the fog and forgetfulness.  Perhaps some Post It's may be in order... but I've got this. I now drift on the idea that my little voice can make a difference.
Sticky notes come in lots of colors and I've got great ideas...

 Peace.
Ellie
Labels:

Comments

  1. GeorgeJuly 25, 2019 at 3:39 AM

    Beautiful way of delivering your words on page "Since autoimmune dysfunction assaulted my life, I have come to accept most things as they appear with much less stress than before. Perhaps time heals. Now if I could just remember to schedule that massage..."

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Attitude Modifications

As my husband facilitates ideas to make my life easier in the house , I have been adjusting and attempting to modify my attitude. May 5th marks one year since my Rhuematologist officially diagnosed me with PsA. The Fibromyalgia determination came just two months ago. Being pronounced with autoimmune diseases is kind of like running a race without a finish line. I spent a long time trying to find out what was causing the pain and fatigue, only to discover there would never be a means to an end.  Thus begins a process much like grief:   Denial - Much like when I was diagnosed with depression, I just shook my head when it began to soak in that I had an autoimmune disease. So much so, that I refused to take the meds and began reading everything I could get my hands on that would discredit the diagnosis. Methotrexate? No, thank you. A chemo medicine for arthritis? Are you crazy? The realization that my doctor might be correct in his conclusions just spiraled into a slow burn...
Post a Comment
Read more

Finding my way

Today is infusion day. Remicade. A biologic drug that is supposed to ultimately stop pain and joint damage. We shall see. Thus far I have used methotrexate and Humira injections to no avail. I began Remicade in December of 2014, however my therapy was stalled by viruses I had in January. So, now we begin again. Hopefully I will be able to maintain a schedule of Remicade infusions that will allow the drug to actually work. Here's why I want it to. It has been a difficult winter. December and January (even into February) are cold dark months. There is less sunshine. The cold envelops a body in such a way that people with normal joints, tendons, and ligaments can feel stiff and uncomfortable. Add psoriatic arthritis, or any autoimmune disease for that matter, sprinkle in clinical depression, and you have a mixture of ingredients that whip up an unsavory recipe. I have felt so isolated. Blogging and posting on Facebook is a constant reminder, however, that I am NOT alone. Feedback fr...
Post a Comment
Read more