I have a very bad case of basal joint arthritis, aka thumb arthritis. It's at the base of both of my thumbs, where the thumbs attach to the wrists. It can be fixed successfully with surgery, but it's a difficult recovery, especially since I live alone.
Having my arm in a cast for six weeks would make taking care of myself very difficult. And then I'd have to go through it again on my other hand.
So, what's been a lifesaver for me (that I discovered on my own) is taking a high dose of hyaluronic acid in the morning and then again at bedtime.
By high dose, I mean 20,000mg (20 grams) daily, which I divide into two doses of 10,000mg (10 grams) twice daily.
HA used to be expensive, but the price has come down a lot. The best price I've found and the one I use is the NatureBell brand, 2000mg capsules, 240 count, for $20 from Amazon. I take 5 in the morning and 5 at bedtime. So it's costing me $20 every 24 days, in other words, basically only $27 a month, even at my rather high dosage.
It makes a HUGE difference in my pain. It's what's helping me hold off on the surgeries indefinitely.
I also have OA in my knees and spine, which are also hugely helped by taking the HA.
YMMV, but I like to tell people about my experience in the hope they'll have the same results.
A psychologist once described upward and downward comparisons to me like this:
We can use DOWNWARD comparisons to contrast how much better we might be doing than someone else; and thus foster gratitude.
We can use UPWARD comparisons as a motivator to achieve what someone else has achieved in order to get what they have.
I first heard this when I was much younger, and it sounded great, so I used it and found it helpful.
But then I became aware, through the loss of my health, what a large role luck plays in everything. And that seems quite fair when you were dealt a lucky hand in life.
Because my life is, even objectively, SO much worse?
I'm not the OP, but I've had two courses of ECT. My first time was in 2014, and my second time in 2018. I was 54 y.o. the first time and 58 the second time.
My first time consisted of 10 sessions with my very FIRST three treatments having the most profound impact on my well-being.
I was inpatient for those very first three treatments. After I woke up, my memory was shaky for only 30 minutes. My fear of having amnesia went away after that.
How I felt was AMAZING. It literally felt as though a powerful thunderstorm had passed through my head and left my mind feeling fresh and clean. Colors, and the world in general, looked beautiful and vivid. And each night, long lost memories from my extremely abusive childhood and young adulthood came flooding back in new ways, allowing me to make new connections, which helped me make sense of my life. I was writing like mad!
I highly recommend ECT to people who think they might need it, though, as with anything, YMMV.
Robot and Will were my favorite characters. Their friendship was something I envied. So much so that when I was an 8 y.o. boy and a toy Robot became available at Christmas time (1968) I wanted that Robot more than anything in the world. And I was so excited when I unwrapped a box and saw that it was Robot, I got sick and had to lay down.
Thanks! Could you give us a TLDR or a link?
Or converse (kuhn--VERSE)
Not only did my parents not encourage me, but I often heard them telling other people, "Don't encourage him, he'll get a swelled head!"
As if I was a little raging narcissist at 8 years old. The truth was both of my parents were raging narcissists who demanded all encouragement and praise went to them. My father was a trust-fund kid who was given anything he wanted. When I came along, he absolutely resented that he had to spend "his" money on me. He wanted to continue being "the special boy" as an adult. He NEVER gave me any credit, would never say even a "good job" on anything. He even forced me to get a job when I was only 10 years old because he said I had to "earn my keep." At 10 y.o. I had to start buying my own clothes and pay for everything except "room & board."
It was a brutal and hellish childhood that I'm trying to turn into a book, putting all the trauma into a "cohesive narrative" but it's so painful to recall all the misery.
That's very insightful of you. And extremely well-said. I've never thought of romance in such terms before. I feel wiser for having read your words.
Lawrence Welk played a mean accordion!
He's in San Francisco, California. If you're willing to travel, I'll give you his name.
Looks like an SNL satirical commercial? I don't watch SNL. But I like this.
You look terrific. Very well done. Really amazing.
I had a full facelift at 48, but not my forehead or upper eyes as that wasn't necessary. It was the perfect age for it, before I really needed it, so there wasn't an enormous contrast between "before" & "after" without any telltale signs of having it done. However, I looked a lot better, and it was a very deep and durable lift that has withstood the test of time as I've aged.
I'm 64 now and it's still holding. I can easily pass for being 48 (coincidentally, my age when I had the surgery). It was expensive at $25k ($35k in today's dollars), but I went to a high-end surgeon. I'm a man, so I absolutely couldn't risk looking like I had a facelift.
How does someone find a free physical therapy clinic?
Cyanocobalamin injections work well for me.
Is he the manager for Sir Paul McCartney?
I was six years old when I wanted, but my parents wouldn't buy me, a GI Joe. So, one time on a trip to the "Five & Dime" with my father, I surreptitiously opened the package and lifted the dog tag off of a GI Joe.
I'd never shoplifted before, but I knew it would be too hard to hide a whole GI Joe and thought taking something as tiny as his dog tag would go unnoticed.
After that, we went back to my grandmother's house, where our whole family was assembled for Memorial Day.
How it happened, I don't remember, but somehow my older sister got a hold of the tiny dog tag and turned it over to my father, who acted as if I had stolen the Mona Lisa. He acted quickly and said he was taking me right back to the Five & Dime, where he said I'd need to talk to the store manager, tell him what I did, give the trinket back, and apologize.
My father was enjoying making me squirm. I asked him, "What do you think he's going to do?" And he said, "I don't know. He might call the cops and have you put in jail."
I was so scared as we drove back to the store. I thought for sure it was my last taste of freedom before I'd be in jail. At 6 years old.
Once back at the store, with my father standing next to me, I confessed to the manager what I did, that I stole the dog tag off a GI Joe. The manager seemed like a kind man, and he thanked me for bringing the tag back and for my apology. He said it takes a big man to admit his mistakes like that.
But my father said to the manager, "You don't think he should spend some time in jail?" (At this, my stomach sank even deeper towards my feet.) And the manager responded, "No. I think going through all this has been punishment enough for him." And I saw him look at my father with a look that conveyed astonishment that a father would make a child go through something as draconian as that.
I never got a GI Joe.
Yes as a matter of fact
GenerationJones