Tag Archives: invisible disease

#sickbody, Advocacy, chronic disease, chronic pain, disability, Inequality, Invisible disease, Patient Advocacy, sickness, SSDI

Applying for Disability Has Dehumanized Me

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Applying for disability is a demeaning, humiliating, invasive process.

I’ve heard it could take as little as three months to be awarded federal disability benefits, but I would probably have to be literally dying. I’ve heard it’s possible it could take six months to a year. “It’s possible” in the world of bureaucracy is nothing to lean on. Most people trudge through two to five years of endless forms, initial decisions, appeals, reconsiderations, and hearings before becoming card-carrying members of the unofficial federal disability club – if they’re successful. In kind terms, the Social Security Administration (SSA) drags its feet more for those who are younger, more educated, and healthier-looking. The SSA is less likely to award disability to those who have worked recently or, ironically, to those who have worked fewer years. Additionally, the lesser known or more abstract the disability as well as the more physical (as opposed to mental), the less willing the SSA is to acknowledge a disability. These are facts I have been told by staff at my attorney’s office, and all but one of them apply to my case.

(here’s a link with some stuff that makes sense)

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“I made this shirt.” Image by Rich Beckermeyer; Makeup by Alex Cassie

As if I hadn’t already made the most difficult decision of my life to accept my inability to work, applying for disability takes it one step further, forcing me to accept every single other thing I can no longer do, even those I am not ready to accept. I still have dreams of being healthy, so please don’t take what’s left away from me too.

My reality has been muted by the towering, sound-proof piles of paperwork that sprout legs and chase me while I toss and turn at night. I have to prove to the Social Security Administration that I am unable to work, but also that I can no longer function independently. I have to prove I no longer have a life despite all I have done to maintain a semblance of living. I feel I am on the middle school debate team and I’ve been assigned the side I don’t agree with; in order to win I have to admit that I am incapable of the freedoms I embraced in yesteryears. I have to do more than just admit them – I have to fully believe my inabilities enough to prove them true to strangers. I have to believe I’m less than I ever imagined I would be so that others will believe me too.

The piles of paperwork litter my kitchen table as I struggle to answer questions about my (in)ability to interact with people, go outside, take care of my health, and accomplish chores. Continue reading Applying for Disability Has Dehumanized Me →

#sickbody, ankylosing spondylitis, Arthritis, Charis, chronic disease, chronic pain, Invisible disease, Love, Relationships, spondyloarthritis

Reclaiming Our Bodies; Sex and Ankylosing Spondylitis

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I wrote this article, which first appeared on http://www.ThisASLife.com in November 2015. What you see here is an unedited, shared version with a different cover image. The direct link to the original article is here: http://www.thisaslife.com/lifestyle/sex-and-ankylosing-spondylitis/ 

 

I recently attended the American College of Rheumatology Annual Meeting in San Francisco as a patient journalist working with This AS Life. While I did not know what to expect, a session about sex and rheumatic diseases caught me completely by surprise. The session titled, “Sexuality and Intimacy in Rheumatic Diseases Study Group,” ignited my interest, so I made sure to attend.

To be honest, it’s a really uncomfortable subject for most of us to talk about whether we have Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS) or not. Sexual intimacy is supposed to be pleasurable and it can still be pleasurable even with AS.

When I walked into the session, I found a vastly different scene than the normal chair-filled room facing a PowerPoint-prompted stage. This session was appropriately interactive and small, creating an intimate setting for attendees. I was fascinated to see another patient – a woman with rheumatoid arthritis – speaking to the group of about 20 people sitting in a circle, along with a sexologist and a doctor as facilitator. At a conference where patients are rarely on stage (and even a bit difficult to find), this was refreshing to see.

What I learned or could relate to:

  • There’s a dearth of information and literature available about sex for people with rheumatic diseases.
  • Peer-to-peer conversations (in person) and online support networks (i.e. chat rooms or Facebook groups) are often a helpful go-to for people looking for advice, ideas and support.
  • Patients don’t always feel they can ask their doctors about issues related to sexual relationships.
  • Doctors often don’t know what resources to provide when AS patients ask about sex, or are not aware of local support groups.
  • Sex is understandably a difficult topic for both patients and doctors to talk about because treatment for chronic diseases is often clinical in nature, which leaves out emotional.

I’m no sexpert, but my experience as someone living with AS and the way I’ve adapted in order to enjoy sex may help you. For the record, I’m not a doctor – and just because something works for me, it doesn’t mean it will work for you. Having said that, here’s my recipe for good sex with AS:

  1. Schedule sex. Before you roll your eyes and skip to the juicy parts, let me tell you that scheduling sex can be extremely exciting. Putting sex on your calendar doesn’t mean it will be boring. Personally, scheduling intimacy allows me to prepare my body and mind for the activity. Have fun planning in advance, which can deepen your relationship (and your sex life, in particular), rather than allowing it to be a burden.

    Thoughts to consider: If you put sex on the schedule for the evening, start the morning off with sweet notes and initiate romance throughout the day (phone calls, send your partner off to work with a handwritten love letter, have lunch together). Make each other feel good throughout the day to build up for an exciting evening. Let me be clear, with the unpredictability of our bodies, even scheduled activities may need to be cancelled or rescheduled – and that’s okay.

  2. Foreplay. Place more emphasis on foreplay. Foreplay helps lubricate your body in addition to your sex organs which makes intercourse smoother. Your bodies will warm up together and there’s a greater chance of feeling good, longer, with less discomfort and pain. Speaking of lubrication, don’t be afraid to use lubricant.
  3. Communication. This is crucial to both (or all) partners involved. Have a safe word for when something hurts. If you need to change positions, say so. You can also be very specific: “My hips are cramping,” “I can’t do this position long,” or simply, “That hurts.” It’s equally important that your partner knows what makes you feel good, so communicate this in an encouraging way. Open communication is important to most couples, but I think it’s absolutely imperative for couples affected by AS. For me, being able to communicate to a partner that something’s uncomfortable enhances my sexual gratification in the end because it allows us both to find a new position that is pleasurable. Similarly, being able to show or tell someone that my body actually feels good is a refreshing feeling, especially when I’m used to my body being a source of pain.
  4. Stretch. For me, the most important (note that I said important, not pleasurable) part of sex is what happens after. The moment intercourse has finished, I stretch my hips and my back with the help of my partner. Incorporating post-intercourse stretching adds to the intimate experience. It helps your partner learn about your body in a loving way and gives them an opportunity to explore your body when you are still relaxed. Turning something that could be seen as a burden into a romantic exercise can help bring you closer.

People living with AS have adapted new ways to open the dryer door, tie our shoe laces or even roll over in bed at times when our bodies don’t function the way we need them to. We can also adapt when we have sex, too. It’s important to remember that sex can absolutely be a positive, safe, empowering and pleasurable experience. Our bodies are absolutely capable of feeling good, and we should never forget that.

What are your recipes for good sex with AS?

#sickbody, ankylosing spondylitis, Arthritis, Charis, chronic disease, chronic pain, disability, Invisible disease, Patient Advocacy, sickness, spondyloarthritis, SSDI

Becoming Disabled Is the Apocalypse

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Becoming disabled is indescribable, so of course here I am trying to write about it.

I did not simply become disabled and accept it with the snap of the fingers: “Aha, so that explains everything! I’m disabled!”

Let me make the clear distinction between becoming vs being disabled. Becoming disabled is a learning process. Being disabled is what happens after the shock has subsided and one has accepted disability as part of his or her identity. Plenty of people have never “become disabled” because they’ve always been disabled – they have never been any other way. The difference between becoming disabled and being disabled is as simple as broken versus whole. When we finally reach the acceptance stage, we are once again whole, having accepted that disability is part of us now.

There is no timeline to follow after a sudden and shocking diagnosis – other than scheduled doctor appointments, and perhaps the sudden tendency to plan for the unexpected worst so that if things improve there’s a reason to celebrate. Rather than having a reliable and predictable five-year plan, the sidewalk paves itself with each step you take.

It’s definitely not a walk in the park.  Becoming disabled is more like walking through the apocalypse. Think broken pavement. Zombies. Car alarms. Birds, big black birds. And whatever else you can think of that you wouldn’t want to round the corner and run into. Clowns. Spiders. Snakes. Balloons. Door to door salespeople. Fear. That’s what I’m talking about. Fear. It’s what threatens to overtake each tentative step forward into the unknown, unpredictable new body you now inhabit. Fear is a powerful substance.
Continue reading Becoming Disabled Is the Apocalypse →

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I Was Always Going To Be Healthy, Strong, and Able. Then Arthritis Happened.

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When I was a child I got into everything. I mean, everything. At least, everything kids get into when they live in southern rural America in the early ’90s (except somehow I skipped the drugs and wild parties). I climbed trees, I played in ditches and mud, I “planted” corn in the fields behind my house from kernels stuck on the left-behind harvested ears. I helped my mother and grandparents in their vegetable gardens. Three channels on our television set meant I watched Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, Sesame Street, The Simpsons, Star Trek, and cheesily-dubbed Godzilla vs King Kong movies with my brother.  I ran around shirtless in a community of less than 900 residents until I was at least 10, then I became known for speeding along on my bicycle to go cut grass or shelve bolts at the neighborhood hardware store. I swam in the streets when they flooded during hurricanes. I was and am still weird – not cut from the same fiber. But that’s rural America for you. And I loved it.

In elementary school I played basketball and began running in road races with my mother. In middle school I played volleyball, softball, and soccer too, along with band.

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Charis, third from left. Pamlico County High School soccer team. Circa 2004

In high school I ran track and cross country, played soccer, and briefly, basketball. I played alto saxophone and was drum major in band. I acted in school plays. I was awarded MVP and Most Athletic and other athletic and academic honors. I became one of the primary care-givers for my grandmother; I fed her, dressed her, cleaned her, talked with her, and moved her from her recliner into bed most nights.

Throughout my early education, I was also heavily involved in church activities and church youth events. During summers I held part-time jobs in local businesses on top of freelance gigs: cutting grass, babysitting, washing windows, and tackling hurricane clean-ups.

College was just as busy. I played on the soccer team and became a co-captain my senior year. I worked half-time in two campus jobs and remained active in church. I dated a couple people. I studied abroad in South Africa and bungee-jumped from the highest commercial bungee in the world. Each semester included a full course load. I participated actively in multiple clubs, often leading fundraising campaigns for them. On Earth Day I wore dresses crafted from paper I found in the recycling bin.  I was awarded a Community Achievement Award and other academic and involvement honors.

I graduated Magna Cum Laude, and the day after graduation (Mother’s Day 2009) began my first professional career as a job coach – I helped people with disabilities obtain gainful employment, then acted as a liaison between them and their coworkers and employers. I dated more people. I began a community garden in my apartment community. I led a youth group at church. When I got burnt out after two years from my first professional job, I became a professional mover and called it my Sabbatical From Thinking while I lifted heavy furniture and became the most muscular I have ever been.

I loved it.
Continue reading I Was Always Going To Be Healthy, Strong, and Able. Then Arthritis Happened. →