You have what?!
When I used to work at my local supermarket in my late teens, "do you want cashback" and "have you got a reward card" were frequently used, an annoying amount of times actually.
Thankfully I managed to escaped that trade a long time ago, but the repetitive phrases have since been replaced with "do you have a different chair?" or "I can't go, I can't sit on those chairs"
Travelling, restaurants, bars, parties or even work, they are all obstacles for me because all of them involve sitting. I can walk about relatively well, but after 5-10 minutes I begin to struggle, because my condition has given me bursitis.
I can imagine if you're unaware of my previous blogs, you're wondering what stupid condition affects the ability to sit - don't worry, you can say it's stupid, I still can't get my head around it.
I have femoral retroversion. That means that the head of the femur/thigh bone is at a different angle than the 'norm'. The normal range is between 11 and 31 degrees I believe, I am currently at -4 left side, and -5 right. Amazingly my body is actually happier in the 'frogs legs position' or cross-legged because these force my bones into a more natural position.
Unfortunately I'm not 6 years old anymore, when sitting on the floor was still acceptable
I wouldn’t say I’m particularly girly, but slouched down with knees wide apart and feet under my chair don’t exactly scream that I’m ladylike or professional at work. It’s actually really embarrassing because I look like I don’t care and I’m really obnoxious.
I go to work in a nice dress and heels and try to look my best, but then I sit down and I turn into a teenage boy.
Living with an invisible illness or condition is exhausting, and not just because of the physical and mental effects it has on my tired body, but because you have to explain the same things over and over. Whilst I actually don’t mind being asked questions if someone genuinely wants to know how I am, I shouldn’t have to justify why today I’m worse than yesterday, that’s just how it is sometimes.
I often wonder what it would be like to say "I have arthritis", and for people to just understand, no confused faces or questions to answer. To be instantly met with some compassion and empathy, and to be closer to being understood just how much pain you're in everyday. I wouldn’t need to turn into a biology teacher each time I met someone new.
If you're not aware of the effects of arthritis, then you've most likely been living under a rock.
I think I'm pretty good at hiding my pain now, I've had plenty of practice, but sometimes that does actually hinder me, because you appear fine but under the surface there's a cameo of faces ready to be shown.
No-one wants to hear you moan about how much pain you're in, again and again, that would be irritating wouldn't it, so most chronic pain sufferers will often try to get on with life with minimal whinging. Giving up just isn't an opinion.
Of course I've had this condition my whole life, I was just born this way, but it didn't really kick in until about 10 years ago when I was 24, and if someone had told me back then that I'd actually have a fear or become anxious over where I might be sitting that day, I'd probably have laughed and wonder when the punchline was coming.
So please know, just because I appear OK on the outside, doesn't mean I am.
Thankfully I managed to escaped that trade a long time ago, but the repetitive phrases have since been replaced with "do you have a different chair?" or "I can't go, I can't sit on those chairs"
Travelling, restaurants, bars, parties or even work, they are all obstacles for me because all of them involve sitting. I can walk about relatively well, but after 5-10 minutes I begin to struggle, because my condition has given me bursitis.
I can imagine if you're unaware of my previous blogs, you're wondering what stupid condition affects the ability to sit - don't worry, you can say it's stupid, I still can't get my head around it.
I have femoral retroversion. That means that the head of the femur/thigh bone is at a different angle than the 'norm'. The normal range is between 11 and 31 degrees I believe, I am currently at -4 left side, and -5 right. Amazingly my body is actually happier in the 'frogs legs position' or cross-legged because these force my bones into a more natural position.
Unfortunately I'm not 6 years old anymore, when sitting on the floor was still acceptable
I wouldn’t say I’m particularly girly, but slouched down with knees wide apart and feet under my chair don’t exactly scream that I’m ladylike or professional at work. It’s actually really embarrassing because I look like I don’t care and I’m really obnoxious.
I go to work in a nice dress and heels and try to look my best, but then I sit down and I turn into a teenage boy.
Living with an invisible illness or condition is exhausting, and not just because of the physical and mental effects it has on my tired body, but because you have to explain the same things over and over. Whilst I actually don’t mind being asked questions if someone genuinely wants to know how I am, I shouldn’t have to justify why today I’m worse than yesterday, that’s just how it is sometimes.
I often wonder what it would be like to say "I have arthritis", and for people to just understand, no confused faces or questions to answer. To be instantly met with some compassion and empathy, and to be closer to being understood just how much pain you're in everyday. I wouldn’t need to turn into a biology teacher each time I met someone new.
If you're not aware of the effects of arthritis, then you've most likely been living under a rock.
I think I'm pretty good at hiding my pain now, I've had plenty of practice, but sometimes that does actually hinder me, because you appear fine but under the surface there's a cameo of faces ready to be shown.
No-one wants to hear you moan about how much pain you're in, again and again, that would be irritating wouldn't it, so most chronic pain sufferers will often try to get on with life with minimal whinging. Giving up just isn't an opinion.
Of course I've had this condition my whole life, I was just born this way, but it didn't really kick in until about 10 years ago when I was 24, and if someone had told me back then that I'd actually have a fear or become anxious over where I might be sitting that day, I'd probably have laughed and wonder when the punchline was coming.
So please know, just because I appear OK on the outside, doesn't mean I am.
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