Intro

Mum and 2 boys

A journal about getting to grips with a chronic condition, rheumatoid arthritis. Born 1968, an unremarkable person in a reasonably remarkable year. I have a husband remarkable for his equanimity and even-handedness. My eldest child was born on the day of the London bombings when a colleague sadly lost his wife. My dearest wish as we took our baby through central London was that he is not forced to live in conflict. My youngest child is not so much remarkable as jaw-dropping when I get to say his vast birthweight and length and follow that up with ‘born-in-water-at-home’ before the person I’m telling sits down looking queasy.

My home is unremarkable and suits us for now. I would swap my neighbours for any I have previously lived next to.  Let me introduce you to the Short Merchants of Filth on our left and on our right, Flameboy and the Urban Treehouse. I expect to vent here about them, trapped as I am with their lifestyle choices, almost 24/7.

I am finding discovering and adapting to the limitations and plan changes imposed on me by RA as hard to bear with as the physical symptoms. I miss being more active and yet I’m often close to being overwhelmed by the challenge of raising two pre-schoolers. I can’t see what the work world holds or doesn’t hold for me in future. It won’t hold running a major public health surveillance service with loads of projects and people on the go, I miss that.

My mother, my husband, my beloved friend L are my mainstays. We pay N to clean our house for 6 hours a week, she is dapper, organised, righteous and fun. K has also been coming here as our mother’s help 5 hours a week towards the weekend to help me as I tire out. She is kind, calm, thoughtful and deeply sensible.