For several months my pain has been manageable. Nothing has been out of control as far as swelling and I’m used to my other aches and pains. But lately, something has been creeping in. Testing just revealed that I am battling a parasite. To say I’m freaked out is a huge understatement. A parasite was discovered last year. I dropped raw milk out of paranoia and followed an herbal protocol that did the trick. I looked at my notes and it happened around this same time last year. Certain parasites can come back each year despite treatment and there are close to a 1,000 that can infest the human body. I play in dirt (compost) when I garden, wipe a kid’s behind everyday, clean a little box for two cats, handle raw meat, vegetables from my garden, farmer’s markets and the grocery store, I eat at restaurants, and I am a freak about washing hands. I could try to figure out where this critter came from and go crazy cleaning and generally freaking out. Or I could do what I am supposed to to get rid of it (going herbal route) and support my body the best way I can. I knew something was amiss though due to pain all over rapidly increasing over the past couple weeks. My boxing gloves are on.
A recent visit with my rheumatologist to go over current lab work revealed MCV and MCH still just above normal. My doctor said that since they are not too high above normal, despite being up there for years, and because the additional blood work he had done came back normal, he is not worried.
He and I got to chatting and I said that sometimes I wonder what in the world I will feel like when I am sixty if my body is doing this kind of stuff at forty. He responded with a sympathetic “yes…” that trailed off. It was not what I was looking for. I wanted to hear hope. I wanted to hear, “Oh, you’ll be fine!” accompanied with a smile. Honestly, I wanted to hear it even if he didn’t think it was true. Is that bad? I have hope. I fight hard against seeing this as a downward spiral even though people all around me are getting worse. But on the other hand, I do appreciate my doctor’s honesty. No mention was made of my antibiotic protocol (now one year and four months into it), so I am continuing with it. I am scheduled to see my doctor and have blood work done again three months from my last appointment.
Another flaky, red patch has come about as well, and this time in a more prominent spot. Lovely.
Current state of my toes and nails affected by psoriatic arthritis. Thank God for nail polish.
Shoes I am getting rid of this week thanks to psoriatic arthritis. Can we please have a moment of silence to mourn.
I can still smile about it all and sport a pair of Naot heels when I want to. Thank God.
When I was at my chiropractor’s office yesterday, my four boys were waiting in an area outside the room. One was drawing, one had his eyes closed, and two were on electronic devices. I was sitting on the table in the room with my doctor with my back to the door that was open. I hadn’t noticed my four year old come in and sit down. I had just told my doctor when asked how I was doing that I was experiencing increased pain, blah, blah, blah.
And then I felt a little hand on my back rub up and down a couple times. I turned around to see my little guy. He looked at me and said, “your back hurts?” Oh, it broke my heart. I wanted to take my words back. I am attempting to make the best of the situation by embracing the fact that hardships help teach compassion. My little guy does not have touch at the top of his love language list, so it means all the more to me that he came over and put his hand on me out of compassion.
I find comfort in my pursuit to demonstrate joy to my children despite an uncooperative body. Because dwelling on what a drag it is to deal with pain and be hyper conscious about food and products is not going to help produce fruit in anyone. Does anyone else struggle with how our children process what it means to have a parent that is not fully well?