Final results

I didn't know my final results from the SLAM BAM until now. So this is what I ended up with. Still not a supermodel, but it's some pretty positive changes, nonetheless: As I worked through this whole, while not at all unexpected still kind of disheartening, not-winning thing, one thing keeps sticking out. Thursday night, one of the judges grabbed me at the bar to congratulate me. And then she started to cry. And then her husband started to cry. And then she started to tell me her own story and I started to cry too. Because she started to tell that she has been having unexplained swelling and pain. And she's tired and depressed all the time. And that no doctor has been able to pinpoint her problem. But when she read my final essay, everything started to click into place for her. The things I was writing about, she was feeling too. So she did some research, and now has an appointment with a rheumatologist. So I don't have a clue if this woman actually has psoriatic arthritis. But she's going to find out. All because of my essay. I've never talked a ton about having arthritis. It's kind of like having a blog. I don't deny it, and I like when people know, because it answers questions without me having to dance around them, but it's never something I've jumped up and down and shouted out to people. Because it means there's something wrong with me, you know? (The arthritis, not the blog) But last night, while crying in a bar with a woman and her husband who had those pained eyes that looked so much like my own husband's when I'm in pain, I really realized that embarrassment and shame is the wrong feeling. Because those feelings allowed me to also sit in my own self-pity. And I'm over that. So while I still don't see myself shouting about it from the rooftops, I think it's time to put the shame away and be more open about my health and what it means for me. Because I am one in five Americans. And that's too damn crappy to be quiet about any longer.