It’s this @*#!! rheumatoid disease, which is making my hands feel like padded garden gloves filled with gravel, sand, and shattered glass. My feet are OK, today, and the rest of me feels just generally tender and battered. I figure this is how I’d feel after going a round with Ali and recuperating for a month…
Over the years I’ve had countless people, from dear friends to complete strangers, offer me heartfelt advice about how to treat my rheumatoid disease. I can’t remember ever asking for it–the “helpful” words just spill from their lips, unsolicited.
I decided to look into what motivates people–family members, friends, complete and utter strangers–to do this. Read more at RheumatoidArthritis.net.
Here’s how my mornings begin: I move suddenly from restless sleep to restless wakefulness. Instead of being warm and comfortable, wishing I didn’t have to get out of my soft cocoon, I’m warm and uncomfortable, and I want to get up because maybe I’ll feel better than I do right now in bed.
For a minute or so, though, I take stock of what hurts: my knuckles and wrists; both ankles, seemingly every joint, tendon, and ligament in both feet; and at least one hip.