No One Wants Scleroderma

Today was the 12th annual, Stepping Out to Cure Scleroderma walk by the Southern California Chapter of the Scleroderma Foundation.  It was a roaring success.  I am in awe of these amazing people who get together every year not just to walk, but encourage those fighting and remember those we have lost.

This year, I arrived at noon.  I could see people dressed in teal shirts hugging their goodbyes and  packing their camping chairs and tarps into their cars.  Once again, the walk was a wild success.

Murphy watching the Pride Parade in Long Beach a few weeks ago.  Forgot to get pics at the park.

 

I met up with some friends I only see at walks.  It was great to see them and was really the only reason I went.  But isn’t that why everyone goes?  To show support for each other and visit?  My feet had been hurting, and I didn’t feel much like walking.   Yet I still  took a walk through the park with my dog, Murphy.  I felt guilty about not coming to the walk earlier, because as much as my feet hurt this morning, it felt good to be walking.  As I walked away from the festivities, I felt better.  Then, I realized my true reason for not getting to this walk on time.  The truth is, I don’t want to be there.

 

 

 

I enjoy the people.  I enjoy the food.   I just don’t want to be there as a scleroderma patient.   And this doesn’t feel like a pity party, it just feels honest.  Look, no one there wants to be a patient, or know someone who has it, they just handle it more socially than I do.  And friendlier.  And less whiny-er.

I don’t like walks because I don’t want to be a patient.  Maybe it’s more about my social skills.  Or that most of my life involves doctor appointment.  I have missed so much time with my son because of appointments and tests.  This is the last week of school for my son.  I won’t be able to attend his awards ceremony because of one of four appointments I have this week.  Yet, I’m still able to make time to do stand up comedy.  It’s really the only thing I have been doing not related to medical appointments, without my son.

It’s funny because I go to my classes, and perform to get do something not related to scleroderma.  Guess what my topic is in my routine?  Scleroderma.  WTF??  I have to talk about it because my hands are obviously damaged and it needs explaining.  And I have to talk about it because it is at the forefront of my mind.  I’ve gotta get all of this our of my system so I can talk about something else, for corn’s sake!  But  in order to talk about something else, I suppose I should do something else.

If you skipped to the end…
I don’t want to have scleroderma, or live with the damage it has done.  I would like to change it.   I hope I don’t get snubbed at walks because I hate going.  It’s really not about the event itself.  Not liking to be at events is about not wanting scleroderma.  Duh.  No one wants scleroderma.