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Sex, Intimacy & Arthritis
Victoria?s Not So Secrets
Victoria?s Not So Secrets
Listen and imagine if
you will?Aretha Franklin belting out her R-E-S-P-E-C-T, dancing
around, boppin? up and down, back and forth.
Why do I have a hard time revealing to men that I am interested
in ?that way? that I have arthritis?
R-E-J-E-C-T-(I-O-N).
When I was in college
I will never forget my Interpersonal Communication class. The prof was
fond of acronyms, as am I, and said we all have F.O.S .D., or, Fear of
Self Disclosure. As my
classmates were nodding their heads up and down, I thought man, they
have it too and they don?t even have arthritis! It?s funny because I exude self-confidence in my everyday
life. I have been told that I ooze it in fact. Little do some people
know there is one not-so-tiny area of my life where self-confidence is
lacking. Which leads me to
how I told Tom about my arthritis.
(Refresher: Tom is my ?get on your knees woman? man of late.)
When I first met Tom
and knew we had some interest in each other, I immediately hid my hands.
In talking with others who are blessed with arthritis I believe
this is a common phenomena. On
our first date, we met at a cool little dive bar in my neighborhood. I
was sure to arrive first so that I could get on the bar stool and save
him the bar stool on my left (I am mostly right-handed, thus he
wouldn?t have bird?s eye view of my hand lifting my martini glass).
I also wore my famous ?first date shirt?.
It is not only cute but the sleeves are stylishly long and so I
usually pull them down over my hand in a Meg Ryan sort of way (she did
that in one of her movies, I just can?t recall which one). I know, I
know, you may be saying that this takes so much energy to strategically
plan all this wouldn?t it be easier to just tell him?!
Well, no. That?s not me. Once again, I don?t recommend
following my ideas of concealment.
After he arrived and
had his beer he said ?Hey, let?s play shuffleboard.
I love this?. URGH.
That reminds me of my first date with a guy who saw the pool
table and suggested that we play pool (I love to play pool, just not on
a first date). We did play
pool, spotlight directly above the table, shining ever so brightly on my
beautiful (well I think they are) hands.
He never called me again. So back to Shuffleboard Tom. Now this
is table shuffleboard as opposed to the shuffleboard on the ground with
the long pole thingies and the heavy shuffleboard thingies!
With table shuffleboard, you use your HANDS to move the discs to
the other side of the table. I
think you are supposed to change sides or something but I kept insisting
that I stay on the dark side of the table.
I suppose my skipping up to his rear and brushing my breasts
against his back didn?t hurt his concentration level at all.
Well, crooked fingers and all, this girl beat his ass. Not just
one game but five. I was
glowing. No, he didn?t let me win either.
So after a few more
dates, he invited me over to his place to watch a video, have dinner and
I was going to spend the night. He
lives in a loft, so the bedroom is upstairs.
Stairs are not the easiest but I make it. When I am alone, I
usually take them one at a time. When
I?m with others I go go go, as if I have nothing wrong with my
legs?as long as I have shoes on.
I forgot to mention that I have a fused ankle, thus going down
stairs I must go down with my foot of my fused ankle halfway off the
step since it won?t bend. Well,
when I got to his place, I discovered the bathroom was upstairs.
So after a few beers (I am not on Metho, so I can partake), of
course I needed to go pee. Barefoot
and all, up I went, forgetting that I needed to go down.
Well, when I was ready to come back down to join him I took the
first step and said, ?Dammit, my knee was hurting earlier, now it?s
really hurting?. Then one at a time I went clop, clop, clop.
He, of course, was absorbed in the movie so I don?t even think
he heard my comment. I left
for work the next morning before he woke up so he didn?t see me going
down the stairs.
The next night was
Friday and he was at my house. We
were reading the paper in bed the next morning and he was rubbing his
knee commenting, ?Man, my knee hurts.?
I said, ?Tom, we are both old with bad knees.?
End of subject.
So yeah we do get
naked and I have scars on both hips, both knees, but it is usually dark
and he isn?t looking for scars that?s for damned sure.
If we have morning sex, once again, his mind is not on the search
for signs of gimpyness.
Finally, I knew I had
to tell him. I am almost ashamed to tell you this but I took a really
chickenshit way out. I told
some of my friends after the fact and they said, ?Vic, you
didn?t.? A very dear
friend of mine is running the Arthritis Foundation?s Joints In Motion
Marathon in Dublin, Ireland in October in my honor.
She needs to raise a lot of money so a fundraising campaign
began. A bunch of us: my parents, my sister, she and myself sent a mass
mailing sponsorship letter to seek donations for funding for her trip to
Ireland. Well, all of my
friends were sent the letter. Tom
is a friend. Tom got the
letter! I would love to say
that we all lived happily ever after and the floodgates of arthritis
revelation communication opened and never stopped.
Not the story. It
has been about one month since I sent the letter.
He has not brought it up. I have not mentioned it. I know he got the letter because I saw the bright yellow
envelope on his table.
If Tom were Mr.
Right, or even Mr. Sorta Right vs. his status as Mr. Right Now, I would
have mentioned something. However,
I see where this relationship is going.
Call me a 30-something sexually active arthritic slut, but I do
believe that this has turned into more of a sexual relationship then
anything else. For right
now, that is okay. Once
again, do I recommend this pattern of behavior? No.
Tonight Mr. Right Now
is coming over. I asked him
to please bring his tire gauge, as one of my tires is low.
He said checking my air pressure was one thing he could do as he
did something to his shoulder last weekend and has been in a lot of
pain. I jokingly said, ?It?s my fault. You caught it from
me?. Earlier today I told
him that I, of all people, knew what it?s like to have bad pain.
So tonight will I talk to him about ?it? or will I just give
him a blowjob?! Who knows?
(This is a postscript
to my article that was going to end with the last paragraph.
Just as I was finishing Tom called and we changed our plans. I am
now going to his house for dinner.
He said ?What are you doing??
I told him I was writing an article for my friend?s website.
He jokingly asked ?What is it about? Blowjobs??
I said ?Well, actually Tom, there is the word ?blowjob? in
the last sentence of the article?.
He wants to read it. I
am not going to let him read it. I
will do the best thing. I
will talk with him about it. Strange
things happen for a reason.)
Until next time,
Victoria
Have a Relationships, Dating
or Sex question or comment for Victoria? Click
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(well...she might if you are an incredibly handsome 30-something single
male!), but will respond to as many as she can here in her column.
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