Uncertain future

I'm off work for the next 4 days at least. I can't cope with struggling this week, with hobbling around and putting on a brave face. I need a rest. I need to try and think everything through and face what it will mean if I do get this diagnosis next week. All I can think of at the moment is what I am missing out on, what I am unable to do now and how much it will affect my future as a mum. I don't want to stand at the edge looking in on the fun, like I was on Saturday's family outing to Folly Farm. The one time I tried climbing on the wooden climb frame to make sure Poppy didn't fall off the other end I got stuck up there as to step down is so painful, let alone to jump off something. I was relegated to photgraphing the day, instead of being a part of it.

The running machine is a constant, silent, lurking reminder that I can't run. Jog. Walking barely. Hubby hung clothes on it the weekend and I felt so angry at him. Just the machine being there is depressing enough without it being used as a clothes hanger, like everyone teased me about before I bought it. The Swansea bay 10k race was this weekend too. I know I couldn't enter because we had guests but knowing that I wouldn't have been able to run it anyway was another poke in the ribs.

Sewing and needlework, projects that I have half-formed in my head, are now also put on hold as my hands are so swollen that doing fine movements will antagonise the joints even more. Another hobby out of reach.

The more I research rheumatoid arthritis online, the more convinced I am that this is what my problem is. There are new diagnostic criteria for 2010 from the American rheumatologists and I fit it. Am I being a hypochondriac? Who knows. I do know that I am not making up any signs or symptoms to fit what I read, but after all I am no expert. I just remember that lecture at University on the subject and meeting an actual patient with RA, the class asking questions on how her life is affected, and her hands. Most of all her hands. Twisted, warped, knarled hands where the joints swell and distort and fingers bend inwards. Ugly hands. I've always had nice hands, pretty hands, good nails. I don't want such an outward sign of being ill. I don't want to be ill. I don't want to take medications that have hideous side effects, not being able to drink, blood tests, monitoring, clinic visits...I just want to be a normal wife and mother who doesn't need help changing a nappy or opening a bottle of coke.