Walking To A Place Where I Belonged

 

How can a simple walk make me find a place where I fit, where I’m not looked down upon for the team of medical specialists I have on board or the number of ailments I battle?  It surprised even myself as I thought I wouldn’t be able to find that community outside of the “box” but found it I did in the name of the annual Arthritis Walk.  For reasons still unknown to me, I decided to walk or limp in my case and I’m so glad I did.

Wearing my bright blue hat, they called me a “hero” for walking for my disease.  I sure didn’t feel like one as there are days I would rather deny it even exists or run far away from it.  At the same time, it gave me a starting point to see other people affected by it, a conversation starter if you will.  It started out with the simple question during the walk of “what arthritis do you have?” but quickly ventured into comparing who they see and what kind of joint surgeries they have had so far.   It floored me that the person I was talking to during the walk wasn’t phased by the number of surgeries I’ve had when in  fact they have had just as many. They asked questions like they really cared and wanted to learn more.  In a sick sort of way, it made me smile that I didn’t have to justify anything, that I could be honest and say it’s not easy but I adapt.  They got it and for a brief moment, I felt a kind of understanding I don’t get outside my family and a few close friends, it was nice.

Despite the difference in our diagnoses, the fact remained that we both have a chronic disease. We both have to adapt every day to how our body is feeling and whatever else may get thrown our way.  For me, I was able to just take a deep breath and enjoy just being me with all the ailments and not feel like I’m being looked down upon or pitied.  In a nutshell, I belonged.

Article written by staff writer, Christina Stevens

Christina is married with 3 young children while managing moderate to severe Rheumatoid Arthritis. While technically a stay at home mom, she volunteers as instructor chair for a weekend event with Women in the Outdoors, an amateur radio operator and writer. You can find her on twitter at @ss_sunset or on Facebook at ss_sunset.

©2024butyoudontlooksick.com
  • Marlene

    Bravo Christine for taking part in the walk. While you were there in your bright blue hat, I was there with you in spirit. What a wonderful feeling it must have been.

    Thank you for doing it. As you didn’t only do it for yourself, you did it for all of us that suffer this awful disease as well.

  • Glad you felt like you belonged. Once chronic illness comes into your life no matter what the title, you want to fit in somewhere since the old places seem out of the question. Can really relate to this one. Thanks for writing. There ‘s a sense of relief when you can be yourself-illness and all and not be judged.

  • I am so happy for you, Christina. Glad you were able to do it at all, and that you found acceptance with the other walkers.

    I can’t count the number of times I’ve been invited to walks for diseases and important causes. It breaks my heart to turn them down and it drives me nuts when friends won’t take no for an answer. They try to convince me I can do it, that I should do it no matter what it does to my body.

    It’s not worth six months of bed rest especially since I would never be able to complete the course. If I signed up for any of those walks, I would not keep up with the group. I walk at a quarter the speed of anyone else my height. I’d get about one block, maybe two, and keel over unable to keep going no matter how hard I pushed.

    “Well, you can use a wheelchair!”

    Are you volunteering to get me one and push it? I can no more operate a manual wheelchair than I can walk. My arms have the same condition as my legs. The only difference is that it’s more ludicrous and even slower in a wheelchair before I throw my back.

    It’s not arthritis that prevents me from walking. It’s right side hemi-hypoplasia, a skeletal distortion. My right leg is 3cm shorter than the left and my right arm is about an inch shorter than the left. My back is crooked and any physical activity takes five times the body energy.

    The orthopedist glibly said “Oh, that’s why you have chronic fatigue.” Well, no, that’s half of why. I’ve got fibromyalgia on top of that. I think of it like having a really inefficient transmission that goes only a quarter as fast on five times the fuel and then fibromyalgia means the gas tank’s a quarter normal size too. Bad interaction.

    I am honestly happy for you that you can walk and share that wonderful acceptance. I wish I could do it. I probably would get out and do it, it sounds wonderful. Someday when I have a power chair, I’ll drive on one of those walks and then I’ll keep the pace with everyone else and enjoy it so much.

    Till then, if I say that I can’t do it, don’t press me farther.

  • JUDY

    how wonderful that you found a place where you were understood, and just accepted! wish i could find one here where i live . but i understand completely as i have multiple diagnoses, and am not really understood, even by my family. it is very lonely in my world. sorry, i wasn’t trying to evoke sympathy. hooray for you! GOD bless! judy

  • Michelle

    I am so happy for you. To be validated is one of the most powerful emotions and I feel connected with all of you in this group even though my illness is different, I share a life of chronic illness and many symptoms are the same.

    Thank you for this great article!

  • Karen Vasquez

    Thanks for sharing the joy of a great walk!