I am getting to know my doc way better than I had ever wanted to. I went to see him on Monday to try and get answers concerning not being able to move. He took xrays of my hands. The radiologist said I have inflammatory arthritis. There are many conditions that fall under that category none of which are good. It is an auto-immune disease with the likelihood of rheumatoid arthritis. The rheumatologist will figure all that out. I can't get in to see him for 3 months. Freak! 3 months? Are you kidding me! Oh well.
Upon hearing the news I had a bit of a break down, just for a day or two. I did what any daughter would do. I went to see my mom and dad. I had a sleep- over as a matter of fact. We spent the night talking and talking and talking, with a little bit of crying thrown in. We talked about everything, not just me, as that topic gets pretty boring. My mom reminded me of my patriarchal blessing. There is a part that speaks specifically of trials I will go through. My dad commented, How beautiful! What? How beautiful?! My choice of words would not have been beautiful. He got me thinking. It is beautiful, not what I would have chosen, but beautiful none the less.
There is a purpose in all we go through, both good and bad. The good parts are easy. The bad is where we grow and learn, become more like our Savior. That doesn't make these times any less hard, just endurable. Finding joy in the journey.
Whatever I have will not stop me. I might not be able to run another marathon, but don't count me out!