Stare

My drivers ed teacher told me through coffee sips, you drive at what you stare at.

I still remember looking out over Houston. I had never liked Houston, not before that day. I sat in the doctors room with my thoughts. And crappy thoughts at that.  Ones like 'damn its me in this chair hearing these words' and 'what now?' . I had a few more thoughts, ones I'd never allow in on a proud day. I sat in that chair and looked out the cold window. Cars and buildings and dreams and horrors all in one eyes watch, a city that would keep going. So big. So many things to stare at.

The first thing I did when I left the doctors was grab a coffee. My husband reassured me I was going to be fine. I didn't need to be so afraid.  I went off gluten and dairy before I made it home. It helped but it only got me to the next intersection. I didn't know what to do next, it all seemed so big, my own Houston. I needed informed ground to stand on, a hell of a lot of hope, and some time to take a big old idea like oh I don't know, degenerating, and see what I could do with it.

Since then I'm learning that informed ground means no corn or gluten, or commercial dairy, or nightshades, or soy. I learned there may be 100 no's out there but there are 300 yes's. Each no used to close me in a bit. A small goodbye to freedom.  I felt a lot like a tired grandma, who had just got done making sure the fireplace had been put out right, taking one last look around her familiar house before bed as she'd shakily reached for the light. No was the light being turned off, a soft glow gone. Leaving me with nothing to stare at...

No these days means stare at the yes's.

Still

 So, I figure I should show up here.

 I'm sorta new to this, sorta not. I have more questions than answers. More hope then despair.

I have to do this though.

I probably have RA. That used to be shattering to me, but now I can stare at it, like a piece of mail sitting on the counter. I spent a year going about knowing it was perhaps true but needing it to not be. I don't need it to not be anymore.

This blog is to get things out there. Spread them out and see what there is. See what I can learn. See what comes with these two letters, RA. In my opinion, they are too close to each other. At least in my life. A really should be near B, (the chemistry those two have), that wouldn't mean big, scary, shaky, uncertainty to me.

It feels good to have a reason. Why this or that happened. What triggered it? I don't know. That used to feel so incomplete. I used to look for insight into what it could of been. I have my top favorite guesses. And some Friday nights over wine, it causes me to laugh.

I used to wonder if everything would always feel so heavy. So narrow. Inflammation markers, joints, and pains. Blood work and spaces. Spaces that I felt left in. At some point I started to see things differently. I saw those spaces as places to be found in. I think we all want to be found. Its not really the space that finds you, its God who says things like, still, even with this. Still.

This page will share my RA journey. Whatever I feel like sharing. Whats helped, what doesn't. I've found the most usual things have helped me. Things like laughter, and connecting. Raw milk and tough realities. Sex and diet. Strangers and things ordinary. My husband and kids. Family and friends. A hero or two thats turned out to be an asshole. Still. Even still.