I’m slowly falling apart.

My family doctor had requested I get my knees and ankles X-Rayed last week, so I found the time to do so while Melanie was in having an Ultrasound done (I’ll write about that later). Now, this was the most thorough session I had ever encountered in the radiology department…usually it’s just click click, out the door. The technician this time had me position myself in literally a dozen different angles to get a better view of my joints. I left not expecting they’d find anything substantial, and that it was just a waste of time. I was wrong.

My doctor called me two days later requesting I come to see him. So, last night after work I cruised up to Bradford not knowing exactly what was in store. Once in his office, he explained. I may be a youngish, 30 year old myself – however my knees have been experimenting with time travel. They are about 75, and have the look of swiss cheese.

Diagnosis #8347. I do have Arthritis afterall. It’s Gouty Arthritis (apparently there is no cooler or more scientific name for it). So I’ve gone full circle in both directions. One doctor said arthritis. One said it was a rare version of gout. Who would know that they were both right?

Best case scenario? The can raise my meds to counter any further damage. Worst case? Surgery and total replacement. And I really wanted to leave this world with all my parts intact.

Between that, my consistantly sore shoulder with what is considered nerve damage, along with what I expect to be hearing loss, I feel a lot older than I really am. January, and I expect Febuary will be fraught with medical visits. I get vampirized again tomorrow morning for testing purposes, I have a Hearing Test next week, and I have an MRI on my shoulder scheduled for the 31st.

The emotions since have been all over the scale. I’m angry, scared, depressed and occasionally just numb. I have much to process and am only at the beginning of this new path. I’m thankful to have Melanie to support me through this…it’s just difficult knowing that we are bringing a child into the world, and I have no idea what condition I’m going to be six months from now, never mind five or ten years.

It’s actually ironic that I’m performing in ‘The Man With The Plastic Sandwich’. Though his scenario is slightly different, Walter is a man who is dealing with the exact same gambit of emotions that I am handling in real life. Angry, Confused and Scared at the changes in the world around him. Another role that seems to have been written for me. I always considered acting to be cathartic, but this one will take the cake.