All I Want for Christmas Is a Cure for Arthritis
I am grateful to live in one of the mildest parts of Canada when it comes to harsh winters. I do wish I didn’t feel those cold brisk days in my bones. I wish I could enjoy winter without extra pain. I wish rainy days didn’t make me feel so foggy and tired.
Winter months are a struggle with autoimmune arthritis. How I have come to almost fear the colder months. Please get your flu shot or stay in if you are sick. You can’t always tell who has a weakened immune system; a simple cold can affect us significantly.
For Christmas I wish I didn’t have limitations and adversity in life. I wish there was a cure for arthritis.
Sometimes, though, it is adversity that teaches you the true meaning of gratitude and support.
My grandmother passed away days after Christmas. I wish Christmas didn’t remind me of her passing and how my sense of family also died with her. I wish Christmas wasn’t the last time I saw my aunt who passed away the same week I was diagnosed with the same autoimmune form of arthritis.
I wish I could work and pay for my son’s Christmas presents. It wasn’t long ago where I could, but not since my diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis which landed me on the number one cause of long-term disability in Canada. His birthday is 12 days before Christmas which is added celebration as well as stress, cost and energy during the cold busy December. I am grateful to have my son to spoil during this month. He makes the cold evenings at home full of love, warmth and laughter. I am grateful my son at 5 years old was able to tell me he understood I can’t work because I am sick.
I wish I could be healthy and strong enough, financially stable enough to take him to all the Christmas events around the city. I too want to be amazed by the lights, scents and love Christmas can generate in the air. I can barely keep up with my own self-care routine with how busy this season gets. I am running on near empty. I wish my pain didn’t increase if I am not careful not to overdo it. I wish treating my disease wasn’t so expensive, others wouldn’t make comments on the price we are willing to pay for some relief or to just keep moving. I wish others understood the guilt that comes with being chronically ill.
I wish dating wasn’t so difficult as a chronically ill single mother. I wish men saw me for me, not that I have a disease. I wish I wasn’t alone this Christmas. I wish my invisible illness didn’t make me invisible to others. I wish it didn’t make me afraid to start anything because my fear of rejection.
I am thankful this year my father is in town visiting from China. He is approaching 70 and has more energy than me nearing 33. I am grateful for the help; I wish having company didn’t tend to trigger fatigue and I could keep up with my senior father. I wish I was used to being in pain with someone other than my son around. I wish pain didn’t make me feel this vulnerable and weak.
I am thankful those around me have adapted with me and know that when I ask for help, it is difficult for me to do so but it is the physical limitations I now live with, though invisible, that do require me to ask for help. I am grateful for my son’s father setting up the Christmas tree and lights; he knew that would be too physically demanding on me now, even though I have done it in the past. I wish my disease wasn’t progressive.
I am thankful for Amazon with their affordable toy prices and to-my-door delivery. Having debilitating chronic fatigue can make the Christmas rush even more difficult; I’ve learned to pace myself so I can get everything done and not toy too much with fatigue.
I am thankful for the Christmas Bureau, but not thankful for the people who ruin it for others. I wish there was more for us single disabled parents because we are a demographic who gets looked over quite often, even more so when your disability is invisible. I wish people weren’t so quick to judge me because I have tattoos; it’s not the reason I can’t work. It’s the debilitating autoimmune disease you can’t see inside me.
I wish my hands were strong enough to use the garlic press. I wish chopping vegetables didn’t make my wrists sore. I wish standing didn’t make my knees, hips and back ache. I wish looking down to concentrate on what I am doing didn’t make my neck sore. I wish I didn’t have difficulty lifting the turkey out of the oven.
I am thankful for pre-cut vegetables. I am thankful for my electric mixer. I am thankful for all pre-made options that don’t taste like garbage or are full of garbage. I am grateful for the foods that are also a medicine and don’t irritate my stomach or pain levels.
I wish there was a cure for arthritis. I wish others understood the disease, showed us more compassion and understanding. For now, I will just have to be grateful for what I have until that cure comes. I am grateful for those who have dedicated their time to research and finding treatments for those living with arthritis.
Getty Image by Viktor_Gladkov