Thursday, 21 March 2019

and the doctor says....

*drum roll*

It's arthritis. She hasn't said what kind (let's assume osteo, as it's in the hip joint), she has just said there are signs, it's very mild, keep doing what I'm doing - strength exercises, keep active, keep losing weight. So, I will.

But... There's a part inside me that says, I'm only 44. If I live as long as my grandad that's more than half my life with this fucking thing, and that part in my head assumes this is the only place I'll get it. Way too young for replacement, and they wait as long as they can to do that anyway as it doesn't last that long, now it's all about managing it, making the reasons it's there fucking do one, and getting on with shit.

Might go for a run tonight. Just a little one, with the dogs.

Might not.

I am seriously, seriously pissed off about the diagnosis though. Did I stay too fat/heavy for too long? Surely a factor, but then it's also in the family anyway (as is the rheumatoid variety). So can I blame my parents or... No, I'll just get on with shit and manage it as best I can.

And keep that Ironman dream alive, obv. It becomes more relevant than ever.