When It Comes to Scleroderma, I’m a Chicken
Or: Please allow me to reintroduce you to my booby.
...Well, it’s not really my booby. It belongs to everyone.
June 24, 2014
I have been keeping this to myself for years and what a better time to talk about my fear of scleroderma during Scleroderma Awareness Month.
After my diagnosis, I wanted nothing to do with scleroderma. I avoided support groups not only because the ones I had been to mostly consisted of grandparents, before my son was born; I did not want to see my future. I did not want to see what happened to long term scleroderma patients. And 20 years later, scleroderma scares the bejesus out of me. I want nothing to do with scleroderma, and I keep on running.
Scleroderma does painful, debilitating and ugly things to patients. And I am so afraid of becoming disfigured, I will do anything in my power to get away from scleroderma-like activities, like asking for help. I work hard to be able to exercise. I sometimes injure myself doing things I prefer to do myself, than have others do for me. Do I need counseling to work through the stages of grief to get to acceptance?
I have never claimed I don’t need psychiatric help, but quite honestly, I don’t want to accept the whole death-by-hardening-connective-tissue that the universe has in store for me. I have accepted parts of the results of scleroderma. Like resting when I need to; spending hours in doctors offices, labs and tests; I have a port-o-cath in my chest, and I wear clothes that show it because I want to be an example for my son; I have moved to be closer to specialists who know what they are doing so I don’t end up dead because of a medical mistake. Yes, that does mean I live away from my son. Right now, I am abusing the English language with punctuation errors. I can’t really blame scleroderma for that, but for our purposes in this post, I’m going to blame scleroderma.
Unless it is medically necessary, I want nothing to do with scleroderma. But this post is not a cry for help. I’m sharing this because of all the crazy things scleroderma has brough into my life, nothing scares me more than Juvenile Scleroderma.
Have you seen what this can do to children? Click this Link Take your time and read about it. Go ahead, we’ll be here when you get back…
Why can’t we do anything to stop this in children? Oh wait, we can. We don’t have a cure yet, but there are organizations who have researchers working on ways to treat it effectively. There are two organizations, one in La Jolla, and the other in Michigan, who have found a way to stop fibrosis and reverse it. There are organizations raising funds for scleroderma research with comedy fundraisers, galas, and walks. there are individuals having bake sales, and it will never be enough until rheumatologists all over the world can recognize early symptoms to give patients a better chance with early diagnosis and treatment; and of course, a cure.
We have a lot of work to do, and I need your help. Please learn about scleroderma please go to an event or make a donation for a cure. It makes me furious that all diseases without effective treatment, must seek funds for research and treatment. There are some pretty horrific ones out there, even more terrifying than scleroderma, but I’m not writing you about those diseases. I want you to know how terrified I am of scleroderma, and even more terrified that people are being diagnosed with it every day, and then must wait to see how exactly scleroderma will change their lives forever. Scleroderma is different for every patient. Symptoms of scleroderma can exist as separate diseases. How messed up is a disease that some components that make it a disease are other diseases?
In order to make my point, I have brought back our pal, Drew, The Blue Footed Booby. He made his debut last year. When you see Drew, please help by sharing his picture and help share the word about scleroderma.