Wednesday, August 17, 2011

End Game

Here's the thing I've been thinking about lately... where does this all end? Where will I be in 20 years? 40 years? 60 years,when I'm 96? Will I ever be 96? How will I feel? How bionic will I be? Should I call Vegas so they can take bets?

I can't say I think about the future. I am too focused on the here and now. I have two school-aged kids, a full-time job and life is busy. I am focused on the next doctor/surgeon/rheumatologist appointment, play date, girls night out, shopping trip, even the next hour - too preoccupied to look too far into the future.

I see into next week with the family calendar. I know I will see my surgeon next week and talk about my shoulder replacement options, and don't forget Patrick (my son) has a playdate with his BFF Finn. But what's happening in November, December, January 2012 - who knows?

I need shoulder replacement surgery. That will (hopefully) happen in the next 3 to 9 months. But I don't really know where (Ottawa or London, Ontario), when (October or January or April) or which procedure (Reverse Shoulder, or a Humeral Head resurfacing or a traditional stem, which I don't want) will take place.

I am happily oblivious to all of this uncertainty. I don't really want to know. It's not a happy story. I'm not sure I live happily ever after. I think, in all honesty, I will live in a moderate-pain, medication and surgery filled future. It sounds bleak, but I think that is what is going to happen.

Just think how happy I'll be if my expectations are exceeded. But I'm not sure they are going to be. A friend at work reminded me of The Cure's song, "Just Like Heaven". It's a song that you listen to on repeat for an hour or two and think about things, as I have been.

I think the future looks more grey than sunshine and roses. I have had RA for 20 years, and I know how I feel about the mental and physical aspects of the disease. It's painful and exhausting. It's not good. But it is liberating to write about and share with other who just might understand where I am coming from. And maybe, just maybe, the sunshine will make it through the clouds of my future.


1 comment:

  1. You have found this place that I call uncertainty. I don't dwell there too often...it can be dark and dreary. I prefer the light, the glass is half full approach but do know that I do go there. In the dark of the night when all are asleep in my home and the moon is peeking into my bedroom window...I wonder, I worry and then I let it go. I have too much to do and that doing takes sooo much of my little energy (I know you know) and so I find that I prefer to put my energy into the positive. But yes, I can so relate to this post. Thank you for sharing.

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