Waiting Games...

***Note I am posting this on May 3, because although I wrote it in April, I realized I forgot to post it...I think I am starting to lose my mind! Who am I kidding...it was lost a LONG time ago!

I have decided that it had been entirely too long since I have updated my blog on my the goings on of my "condition" with living with RA. Since this blog is aptly titled as such, I felt it necessary to update my followers. (Kinda ridiculous really since I think my Mom and Dad are the only ones who actually read this and they know FIRST HAND how I am!)

So quick rundown...
Broke my hip and had it pinned last year in latter part of July. Check.

Was put back in hospital in September for an infection in my incision (which by the way, I knew was brewing but NO ONE would listen to me and kept telling me I was fine...oh, and when I say no one, I of course mean the idiot doctors who I kept seeing every week who insisted there was nothing wrong...right) and had three more surgeries to cut out all the dead tissue caused by said infection thus causing a hole the size of a large grapefruit in my thigh. Check.

Came home from hospital with a wound vac (yes it is a vacuum that SUCKS on your open wound...I know gross, right?) and had it on my wound until week following Christmas where it was removed due to yet another infection. Check.

Was put back in hospital, for second infection and blasted with antibiotics (subsequently killing everything in their path) only to be release five days later, minus the evil wound vac and any and all bacteria in my body (including the good stuff) Check.

Have been living the last three months W...A...I...T...I...N...G for the stupid hole that my lovely doctor created in my leg to close up. Oh, which by the way, STILL hasn't happened yet. Check and Check!

So there ya are folks. That is my story in a nutshell. Now granted, that is a highly diluted version of what I have really experienced, but I am not one to dwell in the past.

Who am I kidding. Okay, generally, I AM one to dwell in the past, but for this case in point, I am not dwelling. There is no point. I could tell you that about all the trouble I have had with getting the insurance company to cover a procedure that would have potentially healed my wound within weeks rather than the months I have been waiting. I could tell you how I have struggled to get a second opinion in this stupid town where there is apparently a Good ol' boys Club in the world of Orthopedic Surgeons and therefore NO ONE will take my case nor give me a second opinion. I suppose I could even tell you about how after nine months post op from the original surgery I STILL cannot walk on my leg without pain and there are days when I can't even put ANY weight on it.

No, my friends, that would be just complaining and I am trying my damnedest to stay positive and basically not cry. Yep. I have reached the point of tears with this soap opera (which is what I am calling it, because it is too ridiculous to be called anything else). SO, what is the point of me writing all of that? Well, because there is no other way to give an update to what is called my life, or what I like to refer to as my personal hell, without giving you all the dirty details.

Also, I am hoping that perhaps it will be cathartic for me to put my words to pen (er, well keyboard in this case) and therefore help me to grapple with all the shit (yes, I am resorting to a filthy curse word) that I have been going through. My mother keeps telling me that perhaps I should go and see someone (yes, like a therapist - THIS coming from the woman who thinks psychotherapy is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo...oh, the irony!) hopefully to work through my feelings.

But I think she is on to something there. I have never been one to shy away from therapy. Shit, one of my BFF's is a therapist. If I had a problem with it, then we couldn't be friends because she "therapizes" me all the time, whether I ask for it or not! But I would actually LOVE to go back into therapy. Shit, I think EVERYONE can benefit from therapy. Certain people I am related to in particular, but I won't name any names (but anyone close to me knows of whom I speak and therefore you are probably smiling at the thought of the crazies in my family). No, I think it would be a great idea.

So, as soon as I hear from a doctor on my second opinion (that is, if I can even get one) then I will be searching for a therapist to join the party to hopefully help me learn better skills in dealing with the broken hip hell that I call my life!

As for my RA, it has been better. Because of the open wound I have on my leg, I am not allowed to take my RA medications because they compromise my immune system and therefore, I am not supposed to take them.

What does this mean to me? Lots of achy, swollen, red, irritated joints! Gotta love it!

Also I have been really anemic (meaning my iron levels are really low) and my Vitamin D levels are "dangerously low" according to my Rheumatologist. When she told me that I laughed. Hello, Lady, I live in the Pacific Northwest where 90% of the population is vitamin D deficient! I sit in my house all day long because I can't walk. I only leave said house for doctor's appointments or wound clinic appointments. What in the hell does she expect?

Oh, well. Once more begins to start happening in my pathetic excuse for a life, I will keep ya'll informed of the goings on! Peachy!

Wishing you all good health and humor...Lord knows I may be deficient in that as well! Kidding. Sorta.