Carnival Attraction

 

Once in a great while, someone listens and asks, "What would you tell other people about having a chronic illness?" 

or

"What would you say about the RA roller coaster?"

The analogy of a roller coaster is somewhat appropriate, but different carnival attractions could be better representations of daily life with rheumatoid arthritis. 

The irony isn't lost on me that roller coasters have some excitement to them. Positive memories can remind us of favorite rides roller coasters at specific amusement parks during our coming-of-age summers kids.

Roller coasters are engineered, sleek, and people wait in line to ride them. The good news is that no one is waiting in line for chronic pain and we should question their sanity if they do.

Which carnival attraction could better describe the daily experience of 3 million people with rheumatoid arthritis?

How about a carousel? Carousels are certainly pretty and inviting as they sit, fixed on the landscape in one location with their carved animals on moving posts. Riders sit astride the painted, carved animals and wait for the carousel to begin turning. Each animal and post move up and down as the carousel's platform is spinning. The rider must balance in the animal's saddle, hold on as the ride moves both up and down while it also spins in circles until the time on the ride has come to an end. 

The carousel is somewhat analogous to "riding" rheumatoid arthritis, but the difference remains that the rider chooses to buy a ticket, chooses which animal to mount, and chooses to ride the carousel. The ride on the carousel also comes to an end unlike rheumatoid arthritis or other chronic conditions.

How about a carnival's haunted house? Is a haunted attraction a better representation of a person's daily experience with rheumatoid arthritis? Haunted houses often feature mazes tunnels, creaky sounds, recorded moaning or screaming, fog machines, and many unexpected horrific surprises. 

A haunted attraction sounds more like a day or a week with rheumatoid arthritis from the pops and moans to the many unexpected surprises, but again, customers pay money to buy tickets so they can feel frightened, scared, or surprised. Patrons choose to go to the haunted house as a recreational experience with friends and they pay for the opportunity. In my experience, the opposite is true: people would pay almost anything to not have the experience of rheumatoid arthritis.

Let's consider how one more carnival attraction compares to daily life with rheumatoid arthritis: the puck Pond. Patrons walk up to the game to see the colorful floating ducks all bobbing up and down. The ducks look identical except that each of them has a secret label on their undersides. When selected by a player, the duck's number determines the prize given to the player. Actually, as a kid, this was my absolute favorite carnival game because every duck is a winner. Each duck had a special surprise and it was up to the player to reveal it. 

Wait, Duck Pond doesn't sound like rheumatoid arthritis at all-not if you're the player. But what if you're the duck? 

If you are a duck with rheumatoid arthritis, you blend with the other ducks. In fact, you look just like them. You look the same and you float and bob in similar ways as you float in the flowing water. Sometimes, a duck will get turned around or maybe bob just a little too much and it's bill touches the water, but it keeps moving forward just like the other ducks. The ducks didn't choose to be there. They didn't choose their prizes either. 

The little ducks just keep going. Duck Pond, from the duck's perspective, is the best representation, the best carnival attraction, of daily life with rheumatoid arthritis. Just keep going. You look very much like all other ducks and of course, you have a hidden prize.