What a stupid difference a stupid year makes

Fuck.

Fuck!

FUCK!

FUUUUUCK!!!!

I have to have another total knee replacement. My right knee has now decided to say "fuck you" to the world and give up.

FUUUUCK!

I was not expecting this today. I thought I'd get another shot or something. Anything. But no. Total goddamn replacement in my right knee. It has been a long time coming, that's for sure. I injured it the first time when I was 18 years old (in a snowball fight, no less). I subsequently injured it eight more times over twenty years- the most recent time being March 3, 2006. That was what led up to the left total knee replacement in 2009.

So, last year... last year, I had knee pain and went to see my knee surgeon. And, I wrote a blog post about it- "Life is funny sometimes, but life is also a jerk sometimes"- and I included helpful photos. After I got over my initial shock- because believe me, there was shock and MASSIVE self-control to not blurt out the word "FUCK" repeatedly- I said, "I don't know what to do... I have so much stuff- I have plans." and inside my head, I'm going over the ren faire dates- like Janesville Ren Faire on May 14 and 15. Bristol starts on July 9th this year. Then Stronghold and a week later, A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians. And let's not forget TeslaCon in November.

FUCK!

My right knee is MUCH worse than my left knee was when I had it replaced seven years ago. But, I had to ask, why doesn't the right one hurt as much as the left one did seven years ago?

Turns out- Fibrofuckingmyalgia.

Undiagnosed, untreated fibro caused my recovery to be a nightmare the first time. Every time I took two steps forward, I'd fall back one. It was a battle. A long, boring, painful battle. But I eventually got through it (especially after they started treating me for fibro).

This time around, I'm on three different drugs to live with the fibro. I take Hydrocodone (Vicodin), Cyclobenzaprine (Flexeril, a muscle relaxer), and Duloxetine (Cymbalta). My body does not process pain properly anymore. Partially due to fibro, partially due to all the drugs I take for fibro. So, my body and brain weren't perceiving this pain as bad as it is, but if someone else had this knee, well, they'd be crying and swearing more than I was while I was driving home today.

There are some differences between my first total knee replacement and now. One, both my parents are gone now and I really just want my mommy. Two, despite still being fat (yes, I'm fat; don't sugarcoat it for me, I'll just eat it), I am in way better shape than I was then. Back then, I'd spent three years as a sedentary human. I did as little as possible for activity. And while I'm not running marathons and lifting all the weights at the gym, I am doing more and of course- ren faire walking (that's the same as regular walking, but you look fabulous doing it). Part of that is that I've been using my left leg exclusively to go up and down the stairs. When I had my first knee replaced, my right leg was still weirdly injured and not as strong as it should have been. I had a lot of trouble with stairs. Third, I am way, way, way more motivated than I've ever been in my life. I have approximately seven weeks between surgery day and opening weekend of Bristol. And I am not going to miss faire. I will not miss Bristol. Ever. My parents always said they wouldn't die during my faire season and goddammit, if they could schedule their deaths during the winter just so I wouldn't have to miss faire or photo editing time, then I will be goddamned ready to go to Bristol when it happens. I don't care if I have to drag my ass around with my walker. I WILL NOT MISS BRISTOL!

*deep breath*

What was my point? I don't even know if I had one. I have to get my goddamned knee replaced. I have to recover from that in seven weeks. It was such a shock because I was honestly not expecting him to say I'd need surgery. At the very least, not total knee replacement. In just over two weeks, my knees will be fully cyborg. I expect to be a full android by the time I'm 65. I wonder if I still have to go to the doctor then or if I just get my oil changed at Jiffy Lube.

Here are some photos of my X-rays. The dates are on them, from 2009 to today. You can see how quickly my knee deteriorated in the past year.

I was at the doctor to get checked out because I slipped on the ice and wanted to make sure I wasn't further damaged (he did an X-ray on my cyborg knee too). But this was my right knee then... it still had some cartilage in it.

May 5th, 2015... last year, when I got a cortisone shot in it. (I added that text last year, I added the May 5th part today. Don't judge me!).

And, here we have today...

Yeah. Quite a shock, isn't it? It looks like my leg bone is sliding off my shinbone.

Just a year... this definitely explains why I had so much trouble walking around at the faire, the other faire, that other faire too, Teslacon, and the Midwest Horse Fair two weeks ago.

Here's a zoom-in on all three X-rays.

Death would hurt less...

I was going to put off writing this post till I had my Flickr photos up to date with the macros I've been doing since faire season is on its month-long hiatus (Closing Day at Bristol- Labor Day Monday. Next faire- Stronghold Olde English Faire, October 4th and 5th, then A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians on the 11th and 12th. AND THEN Teslacon on November 7th, 8th, and 9th). I did a bunch of really cool shots of raindrops on maple leaves. The underside of the leaves cause an awesome beaded water effect, so I've been going understandably nuts with the macro lens.

However, with the final weekend photos and the wedding photos, I haven't been uploading macros to Flickr on a regular basis. I just checked and I have around 80 photos from September alone to upload. And honestly, I don't have the mental enthusiasm to upload 80 photos and caption and tag each one. Not today.

Not only am I stuck without fibro treatment- beyond the Vicodin and Cyclobenzaprine I've been taking for years- I also ran out of my hydrochlorothiazide (spelled that from memory!). I was out of refills and instead of calling in the automated thing, I just waited till my doctor appointment that same week and had them renew everything that needed renewing... except that I ran out before the refill came. So not only was I swollen as a reaction to the generic Effexor, I've been having the swelling associated with not having my much-needed water pills. (they should arrive tomorrow or the next day, according to the automated checkup I did today).

I feel like I'm being smothered in pain. My clothes fit weird because I'm swollen sort of all over, but not in a proportional way. I'm cramming swollen, flipper feet into shoes because it hurts more to go without shoes (and by "shoes" I mean super-comfy hiking boots). I've been wearing my largest, softest shirts and believe it or not, I only have a few days' worth.

Death would hurt less. I'm in hell. I started crying and I couldn't figure it out, till I realized I've been randomly crying from the pain. When I sit absolutely still, I have pain, but it feels more like a dull burning feeling in my muscles. Like I've overexerted my muscles and now my body has too much lactic acid in it. And sometimes my skin itches... sometimes it aches. And if I move, that dull burning ache turns into a searing, stabbing agony. Lifting a 20 ounce bottle of water hurts. Having a four-pound Chihuahua step on my leg in an effort to get over me to the cushion on the back of the sofa is like being stabbed with a dull, hot piece of metal. And that pain lingers. All that plus my wrists alternately or simultaneously feel like I've sprained them. I can't put any weight on my hands when I get out of this chair. You know, this office chair with arms on it so I can use them to get up easier than just sliding out of the chair and crumbling into a heap on the floor.

On top of that general feeling of "Living Hell", after I've sat still for a while and go to move, I sometimes have to actually move my legs with my hands so I can get up. My burning, aching muscles tend to stiffen up while I'm sitting still. Right now, in my office chair, my legs are going to scream like a heavy metal symphony when I decide to stand up. I'm also back to waking up every hour-ish at night. So, no sleep exacerbates the pain, the pain makes it so I can't sleep, so the lack of sleep exacerbates the pain, and then I can't fall into a deep enough sleep, and I spend my days in more pain because I'm not sleeping well, and when I do go to bed, I don't get restorative sleep, so I'm in more pain during the day.

JANE!! STOP THIS CRAZY THING!!

Who the hell is Jane in this story? My doctor's name isn't Jane. (actually, her first name is Jennifer and I think she's the same age as my oldest kid).

The Disabled Guy is sick and tired (ha!) of hearing me bitch about it. I can't help it, though. I get up and somehow I'm supposed to function like a normal person. I put my clothes on and an hour later they're so uncomfortable that I have to change into my giant yoga pants... or get naked under fleece blankets. But you can't go to the store or post office wearing only two fleece blankets. And driving while on this much pain medication is probably not good either.

Now, I've had a few people ask me why I don't use compression stockings for the swelling. Because obviously, in the last nine years, I haven't tried EVERYTHING. I have doctor prescribed, fitted to my size compression stockings. And all they do is push the swelling up to above my knee and leave deep red marks on the backs of my knees. Oh, and since I had the total knee replacement five years ago, that super-tight compression stocking seam that lays across the bottom of the scar feels SO DELIGHTFUL!

Well... I took some photos. I wore my compression stockings for four hours the other day. And I took some photos... (with my phone, because I can't carry my camera and use both hands to drag myself up the stairs).

Here's my leg in one of the stockings (after about four hours). Yes, my leg is swollen above the stocking and my knee no longer has knee-like definition.

Oh, and guess what... my calf and foot still swelled up under that compression stocking. That line on my ankle is where the stocking cut into my swollen skin because I was standing/sitting with my foot at the normal angle that all humans (except ballerinas) stand.

Here's another shot- with more of my calf visible.

Nice, huh? And these were prescribed by a doctor. They measured my legs and everything.

Here's the other leg (the one that was photographed still in the stocking). Oh, and by the way, taking these stockings off was an experience in torture. As I rolled them down, it felt like I was scraping the skin off my bone with a dull Ulu knife.

One more shot... you can kinda see the line left at the top of my calf. Behind the knee, it was red and irritated.

And now you know why I don't wear skirts that show my legs. People say: "Oh, it doesn't matter! Nobody would notice!" I beg to differ, Sparky. Giant elephant legs attached to flipper feet with a huge scar down one knee... that's kind of obvious and difficult to ignore.

The first person who tells me that fibro isn't a real disease is going to get kicked in the crotch with a flipper foot. Think about it- the flipper foot is wider and bulkier than a normal foot. It will cover more ground (so to speak). Hippos are the deadliest animal... imagine a hippo with the ability to kill on land. Yeah... I might take a while to catch up to you, but I'm stubborn and you'll get tired.

I'm going to end this with the song that I've had stuck in my head all day.

Four straight days of this garbage...

I'm in my fourth day of a flareup. A word I hate, because like "hot flash", it implies that it is a short burst of whatever and then gone. This is a flare-drag-on-and-on-and-on-and-on. Not to be confused with a "flare dragon" which is the most fabulous dragon  in Dragon Land.

Fibrofuckingmyalgia won this round. I've taken daytime Vicodin even though I don't have to go anywhere or do anything. And, it isn't even helping.  I'm only wearing clothes because society frowns on the whole "taking my dogs out while naked" thing. You know how society is- "Don't do this" and "don't eat that". Ridiculous because "this" and "that" are usually the most fun things you can do and eat.

Fuck society and fuck fibromyalgia.

I can't wait for ren faire season. I would rather be dealing with this while dressed in *ridiculous clothes and standing outside with a group of people also dressed in *ridiculous clothes.

*ridiculous= awesome.

See? Look how happy I am even though I'm probably in a lot of pain (depending on what time of the day it is).