Bullying has been all over the news and social media lately. Bullying, hazing, harassment – whatever name it goes by the damage it does lasts a lifetime, make no mistake, and unfortunately the disabled make easy targets. In fact, bullying is so ubiquitous among the handicap that I can’t name one person I know who who wasn’t targeted for bullying at some point in their lives. It’s part and parcel with being different, and when you are young, obvious differences become deadly weapons in the hands of even the most inept bully.
Yup, I said it, I’m hopelessly addicted to opioids and I have been for almost two decades, and guess what – I don’t have any plans to stop. What can I say – I’m a loner, a rebel without a cause, and I like to spit in the eye of the man when he tells me what I can and can’t do. Living life on the edge I don’t play by anyone else’s rules. Oh, and I also suffer from crippling chronic pain.
Getting old. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I’ve been told that it “sucks.” Oh, that’s right, it was everyone old I ever knew. Now, having Rheumatoid Arthritis since the age of nine, my body began to wear out the day I was diagnosed, and I had just assumed that my disease was an early form of that wonder of nature called aging. Unfortunately, it’s looking like that’s not the case as my disease and time itself are now locked in a race to the death – to my death, as they fight one another in a bloody conflict for the right to make my body even more useless than it already is. Their war rages on, but no matter who wins, I lose.
We’ve all heard the phrase “everyone’s the hero of their own story,” but do you ever stop and consider what that really means? I have been thinking about it a lot lately, and what it really means to someone chronically ill. Spoiler alert: it’s not all beautiful maidens and slain dragons.
Having a chronic illness shakes your faith in yourself on an hourly basis. Want to change a light bulb? Your shoulders don’t have enough range of motion. Need to change a tire? Don’t have the strength to turn the bolts. Want to change your socks? Can’t reach past my toes. You get the idea – chronic illness makes your painfully aware of all the things you can’t do on a very regular basis, and that’s when you are well. Unfortunately, I was sick recently, more ill than I’d been in a long time.
The eleventh episode of Chronic Briefs, my short podcast series, is now available for download and listening! This one deal with turning 40, as many of us are starting to do. Listen, laugh, and enjoy!
Yesterday, I added a new chapter to that soulful saga of soles that has become an extreme exercise in extremity anxiety. As usual, the outcome was a stalemate, and a tie always goes to the running-shoe. Facing the archenemy of arch-support is exhausting, and even when I win, finding cleats that fits my feets is always a bittersweet feat. My piggy-curator is ready for a pygmy-castrator to end the war of me vs. shoes once and for all.
For some reason a few of the posts lately haven’t gone through, morse the pity. So while this is bad news for me, it means a late Christmas present for you! You get to listen to three episodes of Chronic Briefs in a row! The dulcet tones of my voice will lull you into a comedic stupor all day. Enjoy!
Well, being almost Thanksgiving, I decided to do the cliché thing, and write about things I’m thankful for. At first. Then, I realized that, instead, I could d something drastically different from what other blogs written abut chronic illness do. Right here, folks, for one of the first times ever, I’m going to tell you about some of the good things that having rheumatoid arthritis has done for me. Gasp!