Sunday afternoon

Woke up late, which doesn't help. Usually the pain gets a little better as it gets later, but no luck today. I tried to do stuff at computer, but I can only type with one finger and it's slow and excruciating (am slowly typing this out on Treo). I am scared to eat or drink because I will have to try to walk to the bathroom. A while before 6pm I finally gave up and dragged myself back to bed.

D'oh

Right after finishing my last post, and thinking of how much I want to give Humira another try, I come across this:

Researchers at the Mayo Clinic say that a new look at earlier studies confirms that a class of arthritis drugs is linked to infection and cancer. [link]

I hate this disease.

Flare.

I've been in a pretty terrible flare for the past month or so, though it's hard to tell whether it's actually a flare or it's just that I'm basically untreated--I'm still on a high dose of prednisone, but while I was without health insurance, I couldn't afford the couple thousand dollars a month for Humira, or visits to my doctor, for that matter.

A couple of good things have happened, though: both J. and I got jobs (together, no less); mine is contract work with no benefits, but he does get insurance, so I'll be able to see my doctor in a couple of weeks (she was booked solid until then). My job, while it doesn't come with benefits, does come with a really cool boss; he seemed concerned about me (I've had several days over the past weeks where I simply couldn't stand, so I had to miss work), and asked if there was something that could be done--so I worked up the courage to ask him if I could work from home on days when I can't move. The type of work lends itself well to this, since most everything is done on the computer, and my main work computer is a laptop; we have wired and wireless networks at home, so I'm able to do stuff even if I can't make it down the stairs.

Having the option to work from home is nothing short of amazing to me, and I've already had to use it a couple of times; still, as always, I'm my own worst enemy. I feel really lazy, and like I'm just taking advantage of things; I always question whether I'm in enough pain to be able to take someone's help. And as always, I'm sort of emotionally distant and it surprises me and makes me uncomfortable when people show concern.

Ah yes, issues, so many issues.

Another thing: my coworker across the way--I'll call him Bob*--was recently diagnosed with RA. He's still having some trouble coming to grips with the idea of this thing being for life. He's older than me (middle-aged, I think--I'm terrible at guessing people's age); we spent my first few days here shooting each other furtive glances, trying to figure out if we were both part of the exclusive arthritis group. Once we figured out that our arthritis radar wasn't misfiring, it was nice to be able to talk about some stuff--although it's kind of difficult for me to see him sometimes, because it's like living it all over again, like having arthritis in both his timeline and mine. RAing for two. And like with my little sister, it's really tough to answer questions honestly, because I hope that a lot of the problems I've had are just unusual and I don't want to discourage them. RAing for three.

mmmburrito.blogspot.com : arthritic gaydar since 2006!

*Bob is my favorite all-purpose name, because it's short and symmetric.

Here's a more recent picture of Theo, aka Mr Poopers or El Barfo (do the nicknames really need explaining? I didn't think so)

"Israel used death by chocolate, book says"

Mmm, chocodeath.

"Israel's Mossad secret-service agency killed a Palestinian wanted for airplane hijackings by feeding him poisoned Belgian chocolate over six months in the late 1970s, according to a new book, the author said Saturday."

Cleanliness

You wouldn't know it from looking at my house, but I hate messes. I finally managed to clear out my desk at my new job this week. It drives me crazy all the crap people keep in their drawers--how many different stacks of post-its can anyone need? Plus there's always the assorted dried-up highlighters, nonworking pens, old chopsticks, sugar/salt packets...I even found boxcutter blades floating around.

My favorite, though, was this one: a novelty pack of generic Costco brand pills. No labels, no explanation, nothing. Just different color pills with an expiration date (10/05).