Welcome one, welcome all to an update on my life that is 46 days overdue. There’s been a lot going on, so for laziness I’m basically going to bullet point it all.
I am still awaiting the award for being the World’s Worst Blogger.
I have a date for my surgery. It is August 13th, and on that date I am going to attempt a world first: an arthritis-related surgery live blog. This is going to be very exciting, and the only flies in the ointment are the facts that I can’t connect to the internet from my hospital bedside – so will probably have to hand-write the whole shebang and then post it into a blog once I get home – and that I will be having surgery which presumably won’t leave me feeling great. But you know, bridges to be crossed as I get to them.
I am going back to university in September, to study a masters in journalism and I am very excited.
Sulfasalazine is working! It’s a miracle! Especially considering the awkward phase where my GP refused to give me a prescription for administrative reasons. I mean, I love admin as much as the next person (in fact, I probably love admin more than the next person, more than any person) but not when it impacts on my health and that. C’mon guys, get it together please.
I went to see my rheumatologist last week and he asked me how I was. I said I was fine and he said “You always say you’re fine Collette. How are you really?”. This was brilliant for various reasons – he remembers me (I always suspected this, but it’s nice to have confirmation), and it allowed me to launch into my tirade of how much I hate NHS admin. In fact, my rheumatologist now knows I have a blog and says he is going to read it (Hello to you, sir), so I best just say that I never come across as angry in doctors’ appointments as I make out on here. I promise. I hope.
My paediatric rheumatologist (who I haven’t seen for five years now) also found my blog, and left a comment. Which was really, really lovely.
I am now 23-years-old, as of Friday 19th July. I am so old.
I have now established that the reason why people don’t leave me messages when calling me about crucial arthritis stuff is because I didn’t have a voicemail message that said it was me. OH HOW SIMPLE THE LAST FIVE MONTHS WOULD HAVE BEEN IF SOMEONE HAD ONLY TOLD ME THIS INFORMATION ANY TIME BEFORE LAST WEEK.
I have been to an Arthritis Care Family Day in mid-June, which was amazing. I met lots of people just like me (even someone with systemic JIA, and we are notoriously rare) and felt reassured and pleased to have some company. My family came because I dragged them there and were tip top, as always. And Young Michael had some 13-year-old admirers. Oh, to be 18 again!
Oh, and not forgetting, Arthritis Actually got name-dropped in the Yorkshire Evening Post in this article, which explains all about how this “pensioner’s disease” affects the young too. Classic.
I think that’s everything…