Dear Otto(immune) #RABlogWeek

Here I am, mid-week.  And here you are, my unbidden companion.  Once again you have dictated the course of my days, my hours, and my energy.  I’ve had the best intentions.  You see, it’s the first annual RA Blog week, hosted by a delightful fellow named Rick Phillips who shares his writing at RA Diabetes.
I missed the first couple of blog topics this week, including the topic of energy.  Ironically it was this balance of energy that kept me from clicking the keyboard.  I awoke early Monday morning with ideas and goals flooding my mind.  This alone tells me that Enbrel has begun to work. Overall motion has improved, though pain levels remain the same.  Otto, you are still making your presence known in my hands, though the fingers will now straighten.  If you’d ease up on the jaw, the wrists, shoulders, ribs, hips, ankles, and toes, I’ll take you someplace nice. Realistically you’ve learned that I’ll take you anyway, because life is one big adventure.  Fresh air, architecture, history, and the sparkle of autumn light beckon.
Though the goals and motivations were there, Monday was a giant struggle.  To achieve that huge garage clean-up and gather donations for charity, require multiple talks with you.   Determination and pit stops carried me through this task that had been on my Tew Dew list for weeks (and a list is more fun when titled Tew Dew).  By the end of the day, I could barely walk and the heating pad beckoned.  Still, I forced the body to remain in motion and threw together a quick, healthy home-cooked meal.
Maintaining energy to prepare healthy food is vital not just for Otto and me, but also for my son. Before I developed Rheumatoid Arthritis, my young adult son became ill with Dilated Cardiomyopathy and Ehlers-Danlos Type 1.  Good nutrition has been a significant part of his health gains in the last four years.  As I always remind him, I need the motion, while his heart needs the rest.  And I’ve got a guy with Smiling Brown Eyes who loves my kitchen creations and we do so much for each other.

Tuesday passed as Tuesday’s will in any life, and especially in the chronic life.  Run here, run there, drop the truck at the mechanic, take chronic kitty to the vet, fight with unresponsive websites, then spend an hour on the phone with Enbrel and the mail-order pharmacy.  And complete all of this before the appointed Enbrel Hour.  Do that quick injection because there’s no time to be wimpy or squeamish.  Outwit the men at a game of Catan, take pup for a walk under the stars, and finally settle the Enbrel-hungover self into bed.  And will sleep to be mine. Otto, you won that game.

1970s Old Soul and Happy Camper
The game that you will not win is the game of adventure and the pure joy of life.  I’m an old soul with a young play list, and I have places to go.  Otto, you carry a lot of baggage, so pack it — we are going places.  We’ll rest along the way and feel the cool autumn mist rise from a wandering trail.  We will savor the sights and texture, view old stone walls and fresh green leaves, hear the footsteps of generations.  Otto, pack your bags.
Love,
Jody

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