Do I Have Rheumatoid Arthritis?

I’m sitting here planning the evening’s television viewing while I watch Wheel of Fortune with one eye. I am so fatigued, but I don’t think I could fall asleep. I’m too tired. My day was not really that busy either. That is one of things that make me concerned about my arthritis. I have been tested for rheumatoid arthritis with negative results, but I exhibit many of the symptoms. I’m anxious for my appointment with the rheumatologist. The hardest part is knowing that something is wrong, but not having the expert pronouncing it as being so. There is a history of psoriasis in my family. I have psoriasis, but my skin is no where near as bad as my son’s. Could it be psoriatic arthritis? There is also ankylosing spondylitis which primarily affects the spine and hips. That could be me also.

I am very tired of being in pain all of the time. I’m finding it difficult to drive so I don’t go to the library often. When I do check out books, it hurts to hold them. I want to make coats for the dogs. It took me a long time to take a coat apart to make a pattern. I haven’t gotten any farther because I just don’t have the energy. It’s frustrating! I don’t write anything these days. Everyone, including my son and daughter-in-law get messages and lists from me that have been produced on a computer. Using a keyboard is less painful than writing.

I think it is also depressing because this is something I associate with aging. Inside I feel the same as I did when I was 12 to 14 years old. My body is giving out and it scares me.

Arthritis and Bird Care

I’m whiny again today. This is the second day in a row that my arthritis has been bad. My hands feel like they have been plunged in ice. There is a constant ache and moving is painful. My right thumb actually pops when I move it, which I try not to do. After my third trip up the basement stairs yesterday, I started using the stair lift. I couldn’t wait too long for trips to the bathroom. I wish some generous millionaire out there would take pity on me and build me a safe bathroom in the basement. Remodeling my bedroom cost a lot and it will be a while before I finish paying for it.

I moved for a couple of reasons. My son got married last June and I think he and his wife deserve privacy. I’ve always joked that I will be taken out of this house feet first. I hate moving, so I intend to live out my years here. When my sister was sick, she was so weak that with very few exceptions I had to have the fire department come and remove her from the house. They suggested that I move her downstairs. I thought it was a great idea, but with her being bedridden, I needed her near a bathroom. She could not get to the bathroom, but I needed it for the bedpan and the cleanup. My ideal downstairs bathroom would have a tall toilet. My knees are getting worse by the year. I’ve had surgery on each of them twice. I want a shower stall with a bench. If I need to save money I would use a separate shower chair rather than a built-in bench. It may sound silly, but I want a vanity with a double-bowl kitchen sink installed. I have a kind of kitchen set up now with a coffee maker, refrigerator and microwave. The only access I have to water is the laundry room. I have six 2-liter bottles that I fill. Left over coffee, tea and dirt finch water gets dumped into a paint bucket. I empty the paint bucket in my driveway and rinse it in the laundry room. The only drain in the laundry room is the 3 inch pipe that the washer uses.

I try to keep busy. This morning I used a bathroom trip as an excuse to sweep the kitchen floor. If my son and daughter-in-law had been awake, I think I would have run the vacuum cleaner in the living room. Living with 8 dogs is rather dirty. I wish it would be possible to teach them to wipe their paws before coming in the house. I have now fed my finches and given them fresh water. On a bad day that simple task is hard and painful.

I have two finches that are laying eggs again. I am just throwing them away. I started with 2 Zebra finches last May and I now have 13 or 14. It has been fun to watch them tend the eggs and raise the babies. The two birds that are laying now are children of my original pair. When the first clutch of eggs was produced, I had to use a small stool and a mirror to see the nest. That was upstairs in my old bedroom. I can see into the cages better now that they are on stands. I got to see one of the eggs hatch. The babies are so tiny, but then they would have to be coming out of an egg that is just over ½ inch long. I didn’t know that birds clean their babies after hatching until I saw it myself. The babies do get loud and a bit obnoxious when they leave the nest, but still want the adult to feed them. It’s fun to guess what the sex the babies are. They do not display any of the sexually dimorphic (impressive!) markings until they are several weeks old. The latest baby is just now getting the orange coloring in its beak. There were two babies, but one died. I have two other babies that are a few weeks older. I keep watching to see if they will develop the orange cheeks of the males. I have a feeling that they are females which will mean more eggs to throw away. My room is never quite quiet during the day. Their calls are very pleasant. Thank heavens they sleep at night.

The picture at the top of the post is of a Society finch. The baby it has hatched is a Zebra finch. The Society finches do not have sexually dimorphic markings so I may have 3 males or 3 females. They didn’t seem to care that they had not laid those eggs. They just adopted the eggs are theirs and raised the babies.

Who am I?

My name is Marta. From what I have been told, my name came from a woman my father dated. The story is that my sister 'Z' got her name the same way. I tell people I moved to the Atlanta area because it helps folks to get my name right. The transit system's name is Metropolitan Atlanta Regional Transit Authority. What a shock when I arrived in Atlanta for the first time in 1977 and every bus carried my name.

I am a middle-aged woman who is depressed and frustrated. Big deal you say, the grocery stores are full of them. I know that and it doesn't make me feel any better, in fact it makes me more frustrated.

Would anyone care about what I might publish in this blog? I don't know. I don't think I care if anyone is interested. I have tried talk therapy several times. It makes me feel better and then something happens that makes me feel crummy again. I guess that's the way it's supposed to work, but it would be nice to go to bed every night without wondering whether tomorrow will be better than today. I'm on Prozac too and it bothers me that I can feel so depressed when I am taking an antidepressant. Maybe I am expecting too much of the meds. Back to the question about blogging: I guess this is a place for me to get my thoughts out of my head and maybe get some feedback, even if that feedback is from me when I read my stuff.

I retired on disability in 1994. I blew out a disk in my back, had surgery, had complications and now live with chronic back pain. I used to be a systems analyst with a bank. It was a 20 year career that I enjoyed. I was good at it and actually loved the crisis's that would occur. It was early in the days of telecommuting. I not even sure I had heard the word "telecommuting" then. We could do emergency support through a dial-up connection. It was a life saver for me since I became a single mother when my son was 2 and would have to get my son out of bed to accompany me to the office at 3 a.m. It could be taxing to simultaneously deal with a major software problem and a toddler with a fascination with the restrooms at my office.

I tried returning to work in the office after almost a year of recovery and physical therapy. It just didn't work. I could not sit for more than 15 minutes in my office chair. (I think I tried 8 different chairs to find one that was comfortable. I even had one moved from the building I was working in before I injured my back.) Driving was dangerous because my right leg would go numb at times. I tried working 6:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. to avoid heavy traffic. The less I had to use the brake, the better. Anyone familiar with the Atlanta area knows that traffic problems can and do occur anytime of the day, any day of the week. I suggested the possibility of my working from home since I was absent from the office a lot due to my fear of driving and my pain level. I was actually working at home on those days when I didn't go to the office. It worked well for me. I could work for 15 to 20 minutes, then lie down for a while or move to my recliner to give my back a rest. I would get a full day's worth of work done by breaking up into chunks over a 24 hour period. My manager was not pleased; she was the type that needed to see faces in the office. It was not enough that I finished projects on time or early. When I broached the idea of formalizing my working from home, I was told that the "bank" would not open itself to the possible security exposure and that there was concern over their possible liability for any physical harm I might suffer while working. I put "bank" in quotes because I don't know who really made those decisions.

My trial return-to-work period lasted from October 1995 to December 1995. I was really sad on my last day at the office. It took months for me to get used to the fact that I was not going to my job everyday. It's boring being at home when you aren't used to it. My son was 10 by then, so he was pretty independent. My sister had moved in with me to help out and she pretty much took over my life. (There will be much, much more to cover on her.) I was seeing a pain management specialist and he put me on the Prozac. I still see the same specialist 12 years later. I'm on a bunch of medication. It helps as long as I don't over-exert myself. When I do and the pain becomes more intense, I get epidural injections of corticosteroids. I really hate those injections. I am squeamish about having someone put a long needle in my back. I have never seen one of the needles and never want to because I'm afraid I will freak out and not be able to tolerate getting an epidural when I really need one. I must have someone available to drive me to the doctor's office when I get the injections. The medicine causes hot flashes and I have to take it very easy for a couple of days.

Today was one of my bad days. I have been trying to come up with an outlet for my frustrations and suddenly the word "blog" appeared in front of my face. I guess I will pour out my stuff here. I tried writing a journal, but I have arthritis in my hands and writing is painful. (As if back pain weren't enough!) I could keep a journal on my own computer, but then it would not feel like the sharing that happens when you sit with a therapist. I could go back to my therapist, but it feels too soon to go back to her.

To the anyone that happens to find my blog, welcome. I'm not sure I will allow comments. I have had a couple of incidents in my life recently where I have taken comments and criticism too much to heart and it has caused me some really bad moments. I plan to pour my heart out here. I've lived through some stuff that some may not consider appropriate for publication. I don't plan to name names or give vivid and accurate descriptions. I want to be able to document how it has affected me. Who knows, maybe it will help someone else. I won't make it all about my problems and what is bothering me, I also want to document the things that make me happy and makes me laugh.

We'll see how this goes. I just wanted to start by introducing myself. There is lots more, but I figure this is like the part where you start with a therapist by telling them what is bothering you.