I started crying today.

Because of stupid facebook and a bunch of other stuff.

But I’m telling you, every single time that I try to reach out or comment on someone’s post on facebook, it backfires on me.

People end up hating on me, and I can’t handle it, so I just delete my comment an hour or a day later or something.

I’m so fucking sick of people being rude to me.

I’m done.

I had that woman in my complex call me a bitch a few weeks ago, and I lit up on her.

Just BAM – right back at her – don’t call me a bitch, bitch, fuck you! I screamed across the drive and parking lot.

Like damn Keren.

I’ve been thinking about this anger, about where it’s coming from, and I think it comes from three different places.

My pain levels, and my physical issues.

My mental issues and symptoms.

And being cussed out at my work places for decades by customers – being trapped, forced to be civil to those people still, and just letting them cuss me out while I was only able to tell them to get out of the fucking building please.

All three situations are totally fucking valid for exploding now.

Seriously, valid.

But they’re inappropriate, unproportionate.

My reactions are too big compared to what was initially done to me.

I think at least.

Maybe I’m justified.

But I don’t want to be that person who fucking explodes anymore, ya know?

I don’t want to be that unhealthy version of myself any longer.

But it’s hard.

It’s tough, because I also got some pretty heavy medical news this week.

I mean, part of it I knew already, but it’s just always disheartening to hear it again.

I met with a new Orthopedic doctor on Tuesday and Wednesday this last week.

You can only do 2 body parts per appointment, so that’s mildly frustrating, but also, I get it because that’s a ton of information at once – if they didn’t have that rule.

On Tuesday this last week we discussed both of my knees.

He told me, without hesitation, that I need both of them replaced.

I need a double knee replacement done at some point.

And probably soon.

And he said he would schedule me whenever I’m ready.

Which has been different from all of the other doctors I’ve met with.

All of the other docs want me to wait 10-15 years (basically until I’m over the age of 50) before they’ll schedule me.

He is comfortable doing it now.

He said whenever the injections and the medications stop working for me, and I’m at my wits end with them, to let him know and he can get me scheduled.

It’s a relief and terrifying all at once!

They did the whole physical exam and my knees have been rebelling ever since.

So fucking sore.

But for now, I’m going to try the injections again.

Cortisone, gel, cortisone, gel, cortisone, gel, etc..

Every few months I’ll get an injection of one or the other.

Until they’re not doing anything anymore.

They don’t do that much to begin with.

So I fear it won’t take but a year before they’re not working that well.

But I’m hoping that with the back and forth like that, they’ll become, maybe, a touch more lubricated.

Hopefully.

Well, that’s not all the news on my achy joints.

Because I had an appointment Wednesday as well, for my left ankle, and left big toe.

That appointment was a touch more shocking.

He told me I have very severe arthritis in that big toe joint (the MTP joint space).

And I knew that.

I did.

I knew it was really bad.

But then he said that I need a bone fusion there.

Well, what is that? I asked.

And he told me it’s when they fuse the bones of the foot to the bones of the toe, and put hardware in there to stabilize it.

He said I would no longer be able to move my toe.

And he also said that he can’t do that procedure.

It’s not within his wheelhouse, but he can refer me out to a foot and ankle specialist, he knows a couple.

Shit, I said under my breath.

I wasn’t expecting that.

I don’t know what I was expecting,  because I knew it was horrible right there.

But shit…damnit, that sounds like a horrible recovery time.

He then inquired if I’d ever been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.

I said yes, around the age of 27-28, why?

He said my imaging shows pretty parallel issues on both sides of my body.

First my knees the day before.

Now my ankles and feet.

I told him I’ve been iffy about that diagnosis for about a year now – because I’m seronegative, and the meds aren’t stopping my bone spurs.

He said they won’t stop the bone spurs all together.

That’s not why you’re taking the meds.

He said I’m taking the meds to stop the joint inflammation and to keep my joints that haven’t been affected yet, hopefully stay unaffected.

Hopefully.

But he said that my imaging shows that I’m most likely dealing with rheumatoid arthritis.

He said he sees it fairly equally on both sides so far.

Oh, I bleakly said.

He told me to keep my appointment for next Thursday, with the rheumatologist.

He told me that whatever I do, to stay on my rheumatoid arthritis medications.

So, when I got home, instead of just taking the 1 tab of methotrexate like I had been doing for the past month and a half or so, I took all six – my prescribed dose (once a week).

And the damndest thing happened. Within the week or about 3-5 days or so, I feel like my inflammation is down and I feel a touch less pain.

Just a touch, wildly enough, my pain has lessened a bit.

I didn’t think the medication was really working, but maybe I just wasn’t paying attention?

Because I don’t always notice my physical stuff.

I told the orthopedic doc that it’s tough for me to notice physical things with my schizoaffective disorder.

That I always feel “behind” in a way.

Especially when dealing with my physical issues.

I’m just always behind.

It’s like it’s too much information flooding my brain.

And he wasn’t judgemental or anything like it.

He just said something around “yup” or “I bet” and nodded his head in understanding, and let it go.

I was relieved he seemingly got it.

Because it does feel like I’m always behind somehow.

And then I end up paying for it because I didn’t do something quicker about this or that.

I just wish I could just blink and have a screen pop up or something that shows where I’m lacking comfortability and resources in my body.

I mean, I know where I fucking hurt.

But I miss the specifics.

I know my knees hurt.

But I don’t pay attention to which side of my knees hurt.

I know I get migraines.

But I don’t pay much attention to where they are in my head.

Ya know?

It’s the specifics I fall short on.

And I blame my schizoaffective on that.

I have a really hard time focusing on the small things, and just know that I hurt in this general region.

And maybe I can’t focus because I’m scared.

I’m terrified of having more surgeries, more medications.

I’ve already had six surgeries in my life, I don’t want anymore.

But it looks inevitable.

It seems to be my destiny.

Because I need at least 3 more.

I’m just scared because what if it doesn’t go right?

What if the device fails after it’s in me?

That’s probably my biggest fear. 

I know I need to stop psyching myself out.

But it’s so difficult.

It just feels like all of this is out of my control.

I don’t feel like I have much input in these decisions other than what timeframe they’re done at.

And maybe that’s more normal than not?

I don’t really know.

All I do know right now, is that I’m nervous.

– Keren