If you've been keeping track, you'll notice I haven't blogged in awhile (where "awhile" = about a year) and you may be wondering how I'm doing on my quest to get healthier. You'll be ecstatic to know that I went for a walk in the horrific heat this morning, like the imbecile I am. It's my first in a long time (where "a long time" = about a year). So it's time to start writing again and past time to resume walking.
This spring was a rough one. March came in disguised as May and lulled everyone at work - students and staff alike - into the illusion that summer break was a mere week or two away. My, my, weren't we surprised when April arrived and we realized we still had two solid months of being cooped up together to look forward to. It would have been prudent for us to adjust our expectations, buckle down and forge ahead. Instead we collectively lost our minds. The kids were batshit crazy by spring break, and the staff? Well, let's just say that water bottles are remarkably well-suited to double as flasks.
In addition to the challenges presented by cramming over 1000 cranky people into an overheated building where none of us wanted to be, I was feeling lousy physically. A year ago in March we still had scads of snow and one day while gently and lovingly supervising the kids playing in it, I slipped off an 8-foot pile and twisted my knee. This winter it started hurting again and I assumed it was just the old injury flaring up. A few weeks later the other knee started hurting, but surely that was just because I was compensating. Then my fingers started hurting. And my wrists. Elbows. Ankles, toes, jaw. By May I was taking stairs sideways one at a time, could not bend my fingers enough to make fists and was groaning every time I got up from a chair. In the space of a few months I aged 40 years. What fresh hell was this?
Long story short, I was diagnosed in June with Rheumatoid Arthritis. I don't mind telling you that I am really sick of being diagnosed, period. Somehow, out of the 4 kids in my family, I have had the lion's share of ailments. Yet I'm still here, which is more than I can say for some people who up and died with no warning (you know who you are) and there are far worse conditions I could have. It's funny though...having RA really makes you feel like not doing a whole lot because, in my case, doing ANYTHING hurt. Thus I have about 6 solid months of almost completely sedentary living under my belt. Thanks to the miracle of modern medicine I'm once again functioning well and moving like a semi-well-oiled, slightly-used machine. My only complaint as far as the medication goes is that my mail-order pharmacy sent it in containers with child-proof caps. Arthritis medicine. Really?
My walk this morning showed me, in drastic measure, just how out of shape I am. I'm used to being fat, but this was about being supremely deconditioned. After a block and a half I was winded. I shit you not. It all made sense a few minutes later when I started coughing up cobwebs. The lungs haven't gotten much of a workout lately. Thankfully that resolved as I got going and I was free to spend the next hour cursing myself for spending the first half of summer playing Bingo Blitz on Facebook. Sadly, the result of said walk was an afternoon spent vomiting and wanting to die as is the case when one has heat exhaustion. Note to self: maybe start out a little slower and work your way up to "wanting to die."
Tomorrow is another day. Another opportunity to exercise - judiciously. Another chance to write. Another chance to do the things that bring me closer to being whole and healthy. See you tomorrow.
