It's amazing how you can get what you ask for--and feel so many varied emotions because of it. I figure I've sort of asked for my health opportunities--from the ole tailbone way back when to now with the eardrum, back, sciatica, etc. I wanted to be more empathetic to all you souls who have faced so much. Margo, for example, has had close to every issue I've ever had and to a higher degree. It's comforting that we all go through the same things with a simple tweak here or there to individualize our life plans. Sometimes things happen that simply aren't logical, but they're supposed to be that way.
That's how I feel tonight. I went to the doctor, the doctor that is, that told me, "You'd have to have a one in a million body for someone as young and healthy as you to have something like osteoporosis or arthritis." Well, I haven't been feeling like myself lately. I don't mean physically--weak and yucky is typical. I've felt really selfish and apathetic and prideful. Okay, so two of those are probably typical also, but still. That pride totally hit again when the doctor's grand diagnosis at today's appointment was that I had arthritis. And that it wasn't going away in this lifetime. You'd think I'd get really sad (don't worry, that came later. :)) Instead, you couldn't peel the smile/laughter from my face from all the "I told you so" I wanted to chuck at him. He said, "If you were 60 maybe, or 70 and certainly 80, this wouldn't surprise me. But really, Amber, for you in your early twenties, this is basically incredible." (Sorry to ruin your one in a million statistic, Doc, but Mike Mower has this also, and much worse than I.)
I was smiling, too, however, to finally have an answer for why I'm not really a klutz. :) Not to say that this caused all my accidents, but it definitely plays a part in my overall capacity for strength and recovery. It is no result from the tailbone fall or anything else, but has been building for years, only to submerge now from its severity.
Anyway, in feeling snotty and angry in a really peppy way toward the doctor, I felt badly. "Take away my pride," I thought. Wish granted again as I heard a more detailed prognosis and possible solutions:
First, a lifetime of anti-inflammatory medication. a) I am anti-medication and am very sensitive to it, even in small doses. b) It's not safe for anyone to plan on using these drugs for 60ish years, or however long I live. c) It's not really an option at all for me with the IBD because these kinds of anti-inflammatories would mess up Bubba the Ilium. The alternate medicine often gives people a lot of complications with their kidneys. Yah, not going there again.
Second option--procedures. a) There's a surgery where they inject stuff straight into the disks of my back. It costs thousands of dollars. b) It doesn't get rid of the problem, just helps the pain, and probably only the pain from sciatica, not necessarily my lower back or anywhere else in my body. c) Even if it does help the pain, it's not permanent. It's a better option than procedure 2, but again, super costly. Procedure 2: epidurals. a) They only last six months at the most, some as few as two weeks. b) I'd have to get them regularly throughout my life (IF they even did any good). c) Although less expensive than surgery, because the doctor who normally does them for my clinic is recovering from surgery himself, I have to go somewhere not covered by my insurance. My doctor says this would be $60 for an office visit and then a couple hundred for every epidural I do. I don't even have enough money right now to live on. Problematic.
Third option: "el naturale". This is what I would normally prefer, but it's the least relieving. My physical therapist told me yesterday (before the discovery) that it's silly for me to keep seeing him, because I'm just going to have to keep doing what I'm doing with him at home for the rest of my life anyway. (Thank you, I already have been, and can now save the co-pay.) Until...the regular Doc later said, "You'll need to start physical therapy again." :) Some of the exercises I have been doing for my back may be changed as they could be too much pressure on my arthritis (a possibility for why stretches continued to be painful even when I got better at them (which befuddled these two doctors)). I will also need to add additional stretches, rounding out my weekly goal for therapy at around 25 hours per week. So, as obvious, no option is really a great option.
In addition to the therapy, I would need to have a more strict diet (I would say that's not possible until I look at Mike Mower :)) but I'm working on that. I will also need to keep my body very strong and mobile, but like with the herniated disk, doing so without exercise (excluding my walking and swim therapy). That's where I really got my wish, and the tears started welling up in my eyes. See, we all know I like tennis especially (but golf and skiing, too). I'm not incredible at it. It's just a hobby. And I didn't want it to identify who I was. I was having issues that people, thanks to my tweets, quirky enthusiasm, and Grand Slam fanaticism, really thought that it was my favorite thing and something deeply important to me. Not so--music/drama, classes/reading/learning take precedence (yes, even to Antelope Island as well :)). Those also aren't who I am, they're just what I do. People and the gospel are what really count. [End of soapbox, back to story]. So, naturally, I didn't want tennis, etc. to be my life. I humbly accepted my six months of recovery without it. But now it's out of the question for a very long time, maybe forever. Hence the tears. I don't even like running much, but when I see people doing it, even like a teacher running quickly down the hall, two things occur: either I first think, "Wait, what is she doing? She'll get hurt!" :) or I think, "Oh, to be able to run again!" Now it's more accurately, "Oh, to EVER be able to run, period."
But nobody fret. I can still watch tennis, I can't afford skiing, and I keep convincing myself that a little golf can't hurt? :) As discouraging as it is to realize that a lifetime means a lifetime, what is 60ish years compared to eternity? If all you folks can get through an eight hour day of work when things are tough (haven't figured out your stamina yet), I can get through sixty years. That's just eight-hour days one after another. Then there's always the dream of living to one-hundred. Okay then, eighty years of pain. Big whoop. If so, I'll have "twinkling" to look forward to afterward. ;)
And that is why I say, the day is the gamut of emotions. I'll eat even better, I'll stretch even more, and I won't be associated with tennis much longer. :) Never would have guessed those would occur even more so than they already have. If so, it must just be my plan. And all I can say is...be careful what you wish for. :D
