These Awkward and Arthritic Adventures

Hello.

This is how I roll, attached to an IV pole.

Hello friends, frenemies, and wanderers of the interwebs. Introductions are one of my achille's heels. It's always a dreaded moment for me whenever you're supposed to introduce yourself to a large group of people and say something interesting about yourself (spoiler alert: mostly because I'm not interesting). However, since blogs deserve a proper introduction, I'm hoping whatever small audience is gracing my blog is foolish enough to believe that the awkward hello that I've spit out actually captures their attention. Alright folks. Let's do this.

My name is Julia Gray Parrish:

1. I'm a borderline  crazy-cat lady. 
2. I like a lot of weird things (as you'll come to find out).
3. I have an immune system that makes a hobby out of attacking my joints (uncool, man).

You're undoubtedly thinking "what kind of fun facts are those, weirdo."  Those, my friend, are an introduction to what this blog mostly will focus on: my mostly abusive relationship with juvenile polyarticular idiopathic rheumatoid arthritis.  I'm sure you're scratching your head about now thinking "Yo, what are you talking about, and what's this term that sounds like you pulled it off WebMD or an episode of Grey's Anatomy?" Unfortunately, Patrick Dempsey is not my doctor and I'm all too familiar with what that term means. Let me enlighten you.

Source

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rheu·ma·toid ar·thri·tis*

noun

1. a chronic progressive disease causing inflammation in the joints and resulting in painful deformity and immobility, especially in the fingers, wrists, feet, and ankles.
2. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Look an asterisk, which corresponds to the definition up there. I have further information, read on. There's a common understandable misconception that 'old people's arthritis' (osteoarthritis) is the disease that I have. That is a myth.That disease is a degenerative disease caused by wear-and-tear and natural deteroation. However, my fine disease has no known cause and affects (and focuses on)the immune systems as much as the joints and fully has to do with my immune system being a bit of an asshole (sorry, language).

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In addition to that definition, the disease has an unknown cause (idiopathic), affects five or more- in my case all- joints (polyarticular) and occurred before my sixteenth birthday (juvenile). It's also coupled with a positive rheumatoid factor, which just translates to having even more definitive proof of my disease and hitting the luck of the draw that my disease will progress more aggressively. The other piece of information that goes along with it is the fact that it is an autoimmune disease. Instead of my immune system happily nursing my body to health, it sees mundane things (i.e. my joint lining) as threats therefore going all terminator on them and decides "Homie, you don't need these joints to like walk or be pain-free, I got you. I'll just take 'em out. You're welcome." Basically, my life is often like the Tinman from Wizard of Oz, who constantly is getting stiff and unable to move.  I'm a lucky duck (if said duck was the one in the Duck Hunt video game). Now, I'm pretty sure that I could apply to medical school with that overload of knowledge, and the fact that I spend about as much time in hospitals as the average doctor. I'm pretty sure that's how it works, right (like 25% sure almost).

Even though that was like reading an incredibly boring textbook, it's the one way that describes this disease that has overall changed my life. Let me explain why starting this blog was important to me:

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 There's a saying in the chronic illness world that says "I have (fill in the blank disease) but (fill in the blank disease) doesn't have me!"  However, it's difficult to stay constantly optimistic when my view is buried eight-deep under heating pads and a drug-haze of pain medication. There are the everyday struggle to be able to walk without assistance or an overload of ibuprofen. Even at nineteen years old, I still have to constantly ask for help from my mom with brushing my hair (the shoulder-length hairstyle is not just because I look super hot this way, it's because I'd look like a rat is living in my hair otherwise since I can't brush my hair without my shoulder popping out of place), getting dressed, and cutting my food.
The antisocial attitude I've adapted is fueled primarily by the constant canceled plans because of unbearable joint pain that made me realize who my true friends were (and most importantly, who they weren't). That doubled with the calendar being packed-solid with infusions, doctor's visits and new medicines (that will undoubtedly lead to unwelcome symptoms- like nausea, because nothing is cuter than puking in front of new friends. I've learned from experience). No one can say that I have nothing to do with my life, my life is always busy. It's difficult whenever I tell someone that I have arthritis, and the automatic response is always "no, you don't" or the ever-popular "you're too young for that." Even though, you apparently want me to have the capabilities to run a a marathon just because I'm nineteen, homegirls (p.s. that'll never happen anyways), all I want to do is take a nap. Sometimes, I must admit, it's difficult.

That being said, there will never be a time that I'll give up (momma didn't raise no quitter- unless we're dealing with math in which case: forget that). This adventure has led me to places I'd never thought I would be able to survive, it's taught me to be strong and hopeful in the most dire of situations. It's given me humor about life, and allowed me to see that it could be worse, so just laugh, darn it. It's opened me up to brand new things I'm passionate it about, and lead me on great journeys to meet new people that make me smile (my friends list on facebook is packed with chronically fabulous human beings). God has never given me more than I'd be able to handle, and this blog is going to be my place to praise him for those blessings (as well, as vent on those days where my hair even hurts). 

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So. You'll be able to read about this crippled adventure called my life right here. There will be lots of views from hospital rooms, my favorite inspirational quotes (Sorry, I'm a quote junkie) and the tales as typed from the comforts of my bed with Law and Order: SVU blaring in the background. (Even though this isn't an 'old person's disease,' I've basically turned into an elderly lady with my hobbies and activities because of my disease). To hear more of my blabbering, you can check out my about me to your right. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Hugs + Kisses,

Julia.

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I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.    —Romans 8:18.