Have You Tried Ferrous Squagaldine Supplements?

We've discussed this before.
You can't believe every claim of a miracle cure-all that you see online or read about in Oprah magazine. The list of fabulous natural "remedies" I have tried is ridiculously long. And you can add a new one: turmeric. ERRYBODY be on about turmeric these days. I gave it a shot, what can I say? I carefully researched the right type to take and what additives it needed/didn't need. Then I faithfully took these freaking pills as big as a damn house twice a day for TWO MONTHS. And I got nothin'. Sorry, guys. For the record? Turmeric belongs in tasty curry. I did try a facial cream with turmeric, and that seems to help a little with skin yuckiness, but the benefits have not extended to taking it internally for my RA. My husband (chronic migraines) also gave it a try to no avail.
Maybe you'll have better luck, a lot of people say they love it. But seriously? Who wants to gag these suckers down on the regular, anyway?

Also for the record:
Things that didn't work:
-every vitamin
-cinnamon pills
-dermarolling
-ultrasound therapy

Things that did work:
-flaxseed oil (technically any Omega-3 supplement. Fish oil and krill oil would also work BUT they are environmentally disastrous, cost more, and make your ENTIRE BEING smell of dead fish)
-acupuncture (but only when used once a week or so, longer breaks than two weeks just made it all worse so I had to give it up)
-drugs (NSAID, tricyclic with low-dose SSRI, painkillers)
-exercise (ballet and biking for me, please, y'all can do whatever)

Dermaroller Craziness

I basically have every single rheumatism-related inflammatory skin nonsense that it is possible to have, right? Acne, rashes, dandruff, hyper-pigmentation, all this fun and exciting stuff that they have just started to realize is part of the rheumatic package. Which makes it sound like a free gift with purchase. "Buy any rheumatic condition worth $40 or more and receive -at absolutely no cost to you- a thank you gift including sample sizes of all your favorite skin and digestive problems! OOOH AAHH!"
Anyway... Uh...
So anyway. To top it off rheumatism comes with the fun little symptom of making your skin heal REALLY effin' slowly. I get a pimple and that sucker is going to be with me for a while. Months, sometimes. It's awesome.
The newest, latest, hottest, etceteraist (new word I just made up. You're welcome.) thing in skin care is derma-rolling. Have you heard of this? It's gross. Don't google youtube videos, I did and immediately had a panic attack (though, admittedly, I have panic attacks on the regular and this is not news). It's like... acupuncture? For your face? Using this little roller wheel that looks sort of like a pattern-maker's pinwheel and sort of like the business end of a wool carding machine. Lots of little pins. That you stick in your face. But hey, it's what all the coolest beauty experts are doing these days... or something like that. I can never keep track of that stuff because I have precisely zero interest in beauty products beyond soap that makes me not break out so much and green $1.50 lipstick that turns fuchsia when you put it on. I am bad at Girl. This insane torture device would have no place in my bathroom BUT. But it's supposed to help with that hyper-pigmentation and dreadfully slow healing time. So, I researched and groaned inwardly and bought this damn thing. It's like... it's just this weird thing. I mostly decided to go for it when I realized how utterly ridiculous and hilarious the whole thing is. Throughout history women have done stupid-ass things to themselves in the pursuit of beauty. This is one of those stupid-ass things in a major way.
I figured that my chances were pretty even that it would either do nothing or cause my insanely intense immune/inflammatory response to kick me to the curb after one go. I decided to give it a shot on an inconspicuous non-face area (thighs. They are big and they are right there, after all) just to see if ten minutes after rollerizing (you are welcome AGAIN) myself my skin would turn bright red and swell up like a party balloon for the next week. A day after the trial run I can report that my legs have not fallen off, so there's that. They mostly don't even itch anymore. I sure as heck wouldn't do this the night before a big event, though, as there is a certain amount of prickly redness and stinging involved for several hours after the rollerizing.
Also? The pain involved? Was basically nothing to a seamstress. And probably a lot less painful than pointe shoes, to be honest. Like... a LOT. Women sure do some cray-cray things for that perfect complexion and that pretty shoe. Women. Such weirdos.

Blerg

I am going under the knife tomorrow morning, the first of possibly several rounds of oral surgery that I will be dealing with this year. I'm pretty freaked out about it. I was really looking forward to dancing tonight, I need to burn off some nervous energy and I missed last week so I want to get back to the studio...
but apparently penicillin makes me violently ill? Ah, well. That's, uh...good to know? I guess?

Health Stuff Blah

I'm feeling less dire about things today, but I decided to publish this post from a few days ago, anyway. For the sake of ... honesty? Completeness? Who else thinks the word "completeness" is stupid? It's one of those that should really have another tense. Like "completion" would sound better, but sadly it means something else. Sigh...

So, the horrible foot tendon thing that I was experiencing last week has (mostly) gone away. I babied it so much that I actually started getting foot cramps from lack of use! Silly. Silly and yet...

My shins splints are edging very slowly toward feeling better. I can jump! Sort of! (I mean, I am capable of jumping. Not that I am good at it.) It's been a very long and slow process to get to this point. And they still twinge at me when I try to do something like a ballotté, cabrioles, or hopping turns. Well... hmph. Hopping turns are dumb looking, anyway.

It's funny (not like "funny ha ha") the way I have become so utterly terrified of every new and unusual ache, pain, or click. I feel like at any moment I will "lose" another part of my body, but I never know which part, or when. Will it be my lower back, which has been aching for the past few days? Or will it be that pole of tightness down my achilles on cold mornings? My hips, that clonk and grab at me when lowering out of développé? Which part of me will fail completely enough to be in constant pain? And will it be a part I need in order to make it through my day? My work? My hobbies? I had to stop shooting my bow several years ago, will I have to stop dancing, next? Driving? Living in an upstairs apartment? When does it reach the breaking point, the point at which my doctors will believe me when I say I need help? When I finally test positive on their bloodwork will I be confined to a wheelchair?
Truth to tell, it's all kind of nerve-wracking.
I try not to think about it too much, or I'd never get anything accomplished.

 All my mad Google skillz couldn't locate the original source or credit for this image.

As always, if you are or know the creator please let me know so I can properly attribute it. 

sigh...

Snake Oil Pulling

So, I am not totally opposed to naturopathic medicine or anything. It's interesting, my family is 50% crunchy-granola-hippy-flower-child-new-age-touch-therapy razzmatazz but also 50% science-minded skepticism. A firm background in the harder-core sciences coincides with a strong belief that we don't know everything there is to know. But, when it comes down to it, we just aren't gullible enough for most of that crap.
Now, I am not saying that trying the natural methods to fix something that is wrong with you is a bad idea. I successfully treated a moderate flare up of my chronic depression with St John's wort for a while, and I have had luck using garlic oil to help an ear infection (I didn't have health insurance for a while, can you tell?) and hey I am still willing to take valerian and flaxseed oil and whatever. But, the point is that this stuff has been subjected to actual clinical trials. I didn't start taking the flaxseed oil until I had read the extremely dry scientific papers about omega-3.
Anyhow, the point is that having a chronic health condition is like painting a target on your forehead for people who have read about a guy who read about a guy who had an aunt who tried something for her arthritis and wow now she is cured. Wow, guys. I am super impressed. My neighbor tried telling me that my problems would all be solved by drinking a glass of water with a spoon full of baking soda in it four times a day. That is basically like chugging a whole tube of Airborne every day. Which might feel like a scouring-pad of blessings when you are catching the sniffles and have a sore throat, but otherwise? Really? Yeah. But, this was also the neighbor who asked me what natural methods I was using to treat my cat's hyperthyroidism. I am using the method of giving her the drugs she needs to take twice a day for the rest of her life because it's proven to work and hyperthyroidism is fatal, thanks. I won't dick around with my pet's health even in cases when I might dick around with my own. Your cat/dog can't tell you that your tricks aren't working.
Sigh.
So, anyway, the latest-greatest in the world of treating your illnesses (whatever they may be) naturally is "oil pulling" which is benign enough that I suppose it won't do you all that much damage if you are in to it. But, that is about all I can say for it. If you haven't heard of oil pulling yet it basically means you take a bunch of (vegetable or seed-based) oil in your mouth and swish it around for twenty minutes every day. Now, I can see how this might be good for your oral health, okay. Because it rinses off some of the crap that flossing leaves behind (and nobody really flosses enough, right?). But there is no bloody freaking way in heck that it will cure my rheumatism, give me crystal-clear skin, and change the spark plugs in my car all at the same time (you know what I mean).
Now, if you have conducted a double blind study and have proven that this works on everything in the whole world, then great! When you have that paper published let me know and I will buy a copy of the New England Journal of Medicine that week. Until then, I don't really want to hear about how it "draws the toxins from your body" because dude, seriously? That is not how your body works.

(Also? It triggers my gag reflex just TALKING about it! Gross, dudes!)

ONE HUNDRED POSTS, BITCHES!

100th post! Woooooo!
Not a lot to say, though, I'm afraid.
The last week or so has been really difficult. My cat was diagnosed with a chronic illness. My husband started a new job while also suffering from an endless migraine. My rheumatism flared up so bad I just wanted to sleep through it but couldn't lay down for very long. I was PMSing, which makes it even better. I got a zillion custom orders all at once (which is nice, don't get me wrong. Those vet bills ain't payin' themselves) so I am working and sewing and attempting to communicate with people all over the country while keeping them all separate (my brain is not an organized place).
My hips are going out. They have been for a while, but I have been trying so hard to ignore it. This weekend was the first time they had been so bad that they were my main focus, though.
So, basically, everything is super crappy all around.
But I am going to class in spite of everything. Next week I am going to take an extra class. The harder one. I am a little nervous about it! My other option is to take the class immediately afterward, which is basically pre-beginning. I suppose it couldn't do me any harm to take it. Or maybe I could just do barre of the harder class? Does it really matter? This Monday we were doing those ridiculously hard chaînés turns again. Even when I try to spot I just get dizzy and need a sit-down. I will get them eventually but until then I look super dorky out there.
Sigh. Chaînés turns. You are not my BFF.

Is There a Doctor In The House?

Okay so I don't watch TV much.  I mean, I have a TV. I watch Netflix streaming. I watch reruns of Star Trek TNG and Princess Tutu and the like. I have lots of TV shows on DVD. And my husband might conceivably arrange to acquire in a perfectly legal and aboveboard way the latest episodes of Doctor Who and Sherlock.
But as for modern American television programming, I am a little in the dark. I don't want or need cable or a mini dish, so I basically have to take your word for it if you say some new show is great.
But ANYWAY.
So everyone has been talking, for years now, about House. And how I ought to watch it because it's AMAZING OMG. So. Fine. I tried it out. I was at my parent's house doing laundry and there was a House marathon running, so why not?
UGH.
First and foremost. Hugh Laurie. I have nothing against Hugh Laurie per se. Hugh Laurie + Stephen Fry is a joy to behold. But his American accent is Deeply Annoying. Also, I am sorry, but to me he will always be George:

And so taking him seriously just isn't going to happen. I know, I know, House is supposed to be funny. And he's a good actor with great comedic sense. But. That doesn't make his character at all likable. He's just a mildly amusing SON OF A BISCUIT. You know what I mean?
But the point of this whole post was that during the House marathon that I forced myself to watch while using mom's exercise bike there was an episode with lots of discussion about autoimmune disorders.
And OH BOY. I am SO GLAD to learn via the medium of vastly intelligent medical procedural televison that autoimmune diseases can be instantly diagnosed by these two fabulous methods:
1) put some blood in a test tube. Then plop a paper clip in the tube. Shake. You have now diagnosed your disease. And,
2) Go outside on a cold day. If you have an autoimmune disease you will instantly feel better.
Wow. Thanks House! I am so glad to know that it is easy and amazingly fast like that! I don't know why my own doctors have spent the last five years pooking around with blood tests and x rays and experimental treatment when it is actually SO EASY.
Thanks, TV! You are amazing!
/sarcasm

Shake It Like A Polaroid Picture

So in class today I learned that my impressions of last week, that the Zoloft was making me shaky, were correct and have not improved. It's not so bad when I can keep a death grip on the barre, but even balancing on flat on one foot is difficult in the center. So I looked at the information pamphlet that came with the bottle when I got home. It says "contact your doctor immediately if you experience any of these unlikey but serious side effects: easy bruising/bleeding, decreased interest in sex, decrease in sexual ability, muscle cramps/weakness, shaking or tremor"
So. I got to send my doctor yet another email when I got home tonight. It's a real pity, because this stuff really is making my brain feel better, and really does seem to be smacking down the pain a little, too. But, I will probably end up on something else yet again.
*sigh*

In other news:
We started spotting tonight. Which is good, we really need to learn that. We get all loopy and stumble around after chaînés turns. There are newly taped-up pieces of brightly colored paper on the walls so that we can focus on something easy.
I felt really terrible at our ever-present glissades. I mean, worse than usual. Must be the shakiness.
I stood next to a person at the barre who was AWESOME, though. I haven't seen her before, so maybe she was just visiting from the more advanced classes, but she really was amazing, and following her was a pleasure. Probably made me look ridiculous in comparison, but MEH.

Stop The World I Want To Get Off

Don't get me wrong, since I started taking the zoloft my general feeling of well-being has shot through the roof. My husband says I am back to my old self again, and he should know, right? The pain managment might be a little better than the nortriptyline by itself, as well.
But, uh... there are some... um... side effects. Yeeeeeah. Ones that you don't really want to discuss with your doctor, if you catch my meaning. Or, your mother. Or... anyone. But, in the name of full disclosure and helping out people who are frantically googling in hopes of learning more about their diseases or medications, I will tell you about it. Well, sort of. I mean, I will imply it. Because IT'S EMBARRASSING, GUYS!
So anyway. The information that came with it mentioned that men might have a bit of trouble with... this kind of issue. But, there isn't really a direct female equivalent of... the problem. Because girls are equipped differently. If you see what I mean. But anyway. So the ... trouble was a bit unexpected. And I am not sure what exactly you are supposed to do about it, either. I figure that they didn't warn me about it because the doctors involved in the study were all DUDES and they just didn't figure that it was terribly important for the ladies. Or, perhaps the ladies involved in the study were too embarrassed to mention it?
No kidding, guys, this is totally awkward.

ANYWAYS. Let us discuss something else so that you can stop thinking about it, okay?
Here is Odile. I find it interesting that of all the costumes I designed for this dolly, not a single tutu is constructed the way actual tutus are put together. They are usually two pieces (though I have seen ones like this, too) a bodice that is sort of bustier-styled, and a skirt which is a netting tutu with a decorative "plate" over the top of it and a matching basque, which is the top part of the skirt (it covers the territory between the plate and your waist.
This was some sort of maribou-trimmed concept. Also, that thing where the netting is white under a black costume is pretty common. It irks me as a designer, but I understand why it happens from a construction standpoint. 

She Takes Her Pills, Careful And Round

Here is one day's worth of the crap I have to take. This doesn't include my multi-vitamin or calcium supplements (which I am having a hard time psyching myself back in to taking again). The big ones are actually flaxseed oil. I read that omega-3 supplements were supposed to help with rheumatoid arthritis so I tried taking fish oil pills for about a week. HOLY CRAP IT WAS AWFUL. The side effects are nasty, the pills are stinky, and besides, it is depleting our already over-fished ocean reserves. I gave up on the horrible little things and instead tried the flaxseed. No gross-out side effects at all. More omega-3 per pill than fish oil. And a super renewable resource as well. Take THAT fish oil companies! Also, it does seem to help the stiffness and creakiness in my joints. It doesn't do anything at all for pain, but you have to take your victories where you can find them.
The other crap is prescription medications. The little guy is a kick-ass anti-inflammatory (they want to try something else, but all the others I have tried are huge, require at least two doses a day, and don't work worth a damn) and the one with letters all over it is a tricyclic which blocks pain impulses from nerves. Or anyway that is the theory. The plain one is the same thing, only they prescribed me 75mg a day and gave me 50mg capsules. Yeah. So I got some empty ones at the co-op and I just sift my drugs in to them like a coke head. It's kind of funny, but also not.
Also not pictured: the two vicodin I usually take so that I can sleep. I try to only take them once or twice a week, but that only works some of the time.

I DID take a mile-long walk today, without a cane! I am certainly feeling it, but I am also just impressed that I did it! Go team me!

The Art of Distraction

I was browsing through neatorama.com when I came upon a link to this story. It's about a guy with rheumatoid arthritis so advanced that he has to type his novels with a chopstick. I couldn't even get through it. I just skimmed. I am sure it is supposed to sound like an inspiring triumph, but to me it is utterly terrifying. I already know my time may be more than a bit limited. It's why I quit my retail job and took up dancing again. If I only have five years (ten years, two years, six months...) to live the way I do, then I will be damned if I am living it not dancing and stuck behind the wrap desk at a craft store.

I just try to distract myself. So I was thinking tonight, as I drove home from class, about the myriad ways ballet is a lot like sex.
You work up a sweat and get out of breath
You might think that make up will help, but you will just sweat it off anyway
If you haven't done it for a long time you are worried you'll be rubbish at it
Sometimes, no matter how much you like it, you just wish it was over
It's a little hard to pee afterward (TMI but you know it's true)
If the people you usually do it with aren't there you feel a little awkward
If you only do it once a week it's still better than not doing it at all.
the list could go on!

SMACK!

My husband and I have been watching a show on Netflix, and whenever a particular character whom he hates says anything the hubby says "SMACK!"
You know, because she's so stupid you want to smack her? Hey, at least he's not all hot for every pretty girl on TV, am I right?
Anyway, so a couple of weeks back I was in such terrible pain and was so stiff in the knees that I could hardly walk. I frantically e-mailed my doctor and begged for help. Anything. A different pain killer or anti-inflammatory. A referral back to a rheumatologist or physical therapist. ANYTHING. He responded by sending me in for x-rays and said vaguely that maybe he'd think about steroid injections if he saw whatever the hell he was looking for on the x-rays. Okay. Fine. I was pretty sure that the x-rays would show NOTHING, because I have had every part of my body x-rayed already. So it was just a day that I had to spend in a silly hospital gown standing next to a pole with the words 'left" and "right" written on it in lead, and feeling self conscious about the holes in my socks while getting bombarded with radiation for no reason. But that isn't what annoyed me.
I heard nothing from my doctor for two weeks, and then last week I received a letter in the mail. It said "x-rays unremarkable. No damage or  defects found". Signed sealed delivered. Not a word on what that means to him, or why he made me take the stupid x-rays in the first place when all evidence points to a problem that is not related to my bones in any way. I should write back to him, but I am too livid to even deal with the man right now. I don't even care what the condition is anymore! I just want a treatment for the symptoms! But every time I say a thing to a doctor within this shitty HMO all I get is "we don't know what's wrong with you".
SMACK!

Stand Up Straight

One of the big reasons I decided to go in to this whole ballet thing (aside from the fact that I enjoy it) was because my posture could use some serious help. It's... it's really bad. I have scoliosis and sort of a sway back, and when I think I am standing up straight I am actually sort of leaning backwards. That can't be making the joints in my legs and hips any better.
For the first two months of class I was being corrected on my posture CONSTANTLY. But as soon as we started doing all of our barre work with one hand on the barre (so I could finally see myself in the mirror from the side) I figured out what correct posture is supposed to look like. Doing it without the help of a mirror is a bit tricky, still.
I guess until I was 30 freaking years old I didn't know what correct posture felt like. It feels sort of unnatural, like I am hunching my upper back, but I'm not. Also, I have to pull my tummy in constantly, a trick I am attempting to practice more in daily life. Like sitting on the bus today. Repeating a little mantra in my head.
Tummy in, shoulders forward, tummy in, shoulders forward, tummy in, shoulders forward...

You Are Not So Bad Off

brazilian ballet school teaching the blind 

Very cool little video.

I was just thinking about how I hurt right now to the point that I want to call it stupid. Like... I stupid hurt right now. Like it's an emphasizing word*. But now that I've watched that I think I will just pretend I am not as shallow and self centered as I actually am and just say that we finally did more turning pas de bourrée and it was much less awful this time. We also did more of the crazy waltzing and hey, at least it almost made sense. Just almost, though.



*I know it has a name but I asked my husband (who has an English degree) and he was like "I dunno, yo" and if he doesn't know then what hope do I have (I have a stinkin' fashion degree)?