Last summer vs. This summer.
Last summer, I could barely move. I remember the day I realized my spine wasn't supporting me anymore. I'd been having pain with walking for weeks, but there came a day where I couldn't push through it anymore. It was May or June of 2020, and my sister and I were about to go on a hike up to the Griffith Observatory when my legs essentially gave out from under me no more than five minutes into our venture. No amount of rest could help. It was like someone had put a deadbolt on my hips and locked it tight.
My first doctor called it myofacial pain, likely because of my weight. At the time, this (while still innacurate) wasn't surprising. I was over 300 pounds, and in only five foot four. Still, that was an oversight that cost me months of mobility. Eventually, I went to a rheumatologist. My mother, who has several autoimmune issues, encouraged me to, as all my previous doctor had done for me was misdiagnose my pain, and gave me a painkiller that made me near suicidal.
So I went to the damn rheumatologist. And all these things from my teenaged years start stacking up. Different symptoms I thought had nothing in common. Things like, rashes that sprung up every two weeks or so. Dry eyes. Pitted nails. Abdominal pain. And then, God, the spinal pain. My hips and my back, my neck, my wrists, my ankles, my knees. And so much inflammation. And she asks me the question, does anyone in your family have Psoriatic Arthritis?
And im like.... yeeeees. My mom. My mom has it really really bad.
So the rheumatologist gets an MRI and low and behold, different joints in my spine (specifically both sacroilliac joints as well as a few vertebrae) are so inflamed that they have eroded the surrounding bone. Essentially, bone on bone, scraping pain, NOT originally caused by weight. Psoriatic arthritis. At 19.
In a wheelchair when the walker i used couldn't support me anymore. But most of the time? Sitting on my couch feeling sorry for myself because I couldn't lift my own body more than a few feet.
I tried Humira. Spinal involvement with PsA can be really harmful, so, you know, they figured let's put you on a biologic. And my immune system nearly killed me for it. Two weeks after my one and only shot of humira I had to spend an entire week in the hospital fighting off a 105 fever and a mysterious illness that to this day has never received a diagnosis.
But this is the thing: enough was enough. Enough was enough was enough. I had to walk and live and breathe and not die in my thirties because my own fat was suffocating me due to me inability to move.
So I started eating healthy. For years of my life in an effort to lose weight (that forever failed) I would withhold food til the end of the night... and then I would be so hungry I binged on 2 large dominos pizzas, a 2 litter of diet coke, a box of garlic knots and a box of cinnamon twists. And if it wasn't that it was a box of pasta. But the 2 litre thing was an average thing for me. It was a coping mechanism and the only thing that kept me awake (although I did spend most of my days sleeping.)
So I quit that shit. I started actually eating. And I cut out the things that were most harmful to me and started an anti-inflammatory diet. Not like stupid fucking diet culture bullshit. Actual shit to help with my health so that my already shitty heart (I had heart surgery for WPW when I was 10) didn't give out on me. And then I lost some of the weight and could move again. I started slow. A five minute walk if I could manage it. Then ten. Then 20. And increasing until... now.
Now. 85+ pounds down. Most people are actually not THAT unhealthy if they are overweight. I was, simply because my joints were too damaged to support it. So thats a good thing. I walk a mile near every day. I work out twice a week on top of that. I eat healthy.
And I can run. And I can breathe. Im so much more confident. I feel like I have a life to live. Last year, I felt like I was waiting to fall into my own grave and succumb to my inability to change for the better.
And even though I can run and breathe and live, yes, I still have pain. I still get psoriasis and feel embarrassed by it. My hips crack when I stand up. My knees and ankles swell sometimes. I can't always walk as fast as my friends.
But at least I know I can do all of that for a long while more. Pain sucks but its a fucking part of life. I know a lot of people won't see this but please for the love of GOD know that pain will come and go. It waxes and wanes. You owe it to yourself to believe you can get through it. Because I did and still do. Fall down, stand back up. Stop staring into your grave and build a bridge to get over it. You're stronger than you think you are.