Healthy New Year…

Yesterday, I said that my health goals deserved a blog all their own…tah-dah!

In fact, Health is my #1 priority…besides PanKwake and Cookie Monster that is.


Because without health…you are limiting the other things that you can achieve.

Until 2017, I always considered myself relatively healthy. Sure, I carried a few too many pounds, but I am not the type of person to give a sh^t what people think about my weight. And if a man had problems with my curves…don’t let the knob hit you where the good goddess spilt you…on the way out the door. (Of course, Cookie had no problem with them.)

Then in early 2017, I had to stop giving Cookie his nightly messages…because my thumbs and wrists started to hurt. But we were busy then with the move into #HomeCrazzyHome, so I had no time for doctors. Over the next three to four months between a bad wisdom tooth and my hands, I was eating paracetamol and ibuprofen like M&Ms/Smarties.

In April, Cookie finally won the argument…and I went off to my GP. She barely touched me. Then ordered X-rays and blood tests. She called a couple of weeks later to tell me it was rheumatoid arthritis and she was referring me to a rheumatologist.

By then the pain had gotten so bad that I was taking to my bed once or twice a week (except for caring for PanKwake). I hurt constantly…even with all those pills.

But the wait to be seen was MONTHS. Even then I was not to be seen by a rheumatologist but by some mid-level gatekeeper (whose qualifications I still do not know). I complained. I cried. I even had a meltdown all my own.

And when I finally did see that ‘specialist’? I was informed that he could only look at my wrists as that was what I was referred for…not any of the other symptoms. As for rheumatoid arthritis…yes, the rheumatoid factor was elevated in my blood…but not enough. And the X-rays showed osteoarthritis…but not that bad. He shook his head…offered me a steroid shot into the wrist…said he did not know what was wrong with me…but he would have me back in a few weeks to look at my knees.

I left that office in tears. Once again…I had trusted the ‘experts’. And once more, they had failed me/us. This time, it was not even the complexity of the human brain. It was cut and dried medicine.

But it was not…

It was though the kick up my butt that I needed to take back control of my body.

So I got online. I did for joint pain what I tell others to do for #neurodivergence. I learned all I could. I focused not on the drugs that without a diagnosis I could not get…but on the things within my control. What I could do for myself.

Supplements…sure…though I cannot swallow THAT many pills every single day. But also diet. Turns out that a vegetarian diet can help with joint pain…with some modest fish too for their Omega-3 fatty acids. So I changed my diet. I even drank not as nasty as they sound but still not good Turmeric milk shakes. And the girl who does not like needles tried acupuncture.

You know what? I got better. Not healed. There is not a day goes by that I am not in pain. But I have had only a handful of days since then where I simply could not do what I needed to do because of pain and low energy.

I still don’t know what it is…early stage rheumatoid? osteoarthritis? Someone mentioned joint pain as symptom of menopause? Then I discovered gout?

But as I say about #neurodivergent…the specific label of #autism…or #PDA…or #dyslexia…or ADHD…is less important than finding WHAT WORKS!

One thing I do know though…my joints are carrying too much strain from being overweight. If I want to remain healthy and active as I age, then enough is enough. It is time to take back control of my weight.

I believe with weight…and some other things like mental health…there is a point of no-return if you will. A point where you loose control. Where it becomes VIRTUALLY impossible for you to…make changes…get better…BY YOURSELF.

This is that point for me and my weight. I am fifty-two and a half years old. My joints are under more pressure than they can manage. And I am morbidly obese.

At this point, I still am young enough…and active enough…that I can exercise. But if I don’t take that control of my diet, exercise, and body in 2018…it might not be possible for me to do so (without some serious medical help) next year…two…or five…and certainly not ten years from now.

And what better reason does any woman have than these…


So let me get my fat b^tt off this computer. Eat some breakfast and get on the tread mill for half an hour.

Published by Tara Cox

Writer of Literary Erotica Real-life, hot sex, deep meaning... In my day job, I am homemaker, home educator, urban farmer, and homesteader at our @HomeCrazzyHome.

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