The CBC ran this article on the prevalence and cost of arthritis today.
I think it's quite good, actually. There are one or two idiot comments down below, but for the most part, I was impressed.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
No doctor's appointments for two months: fail
Remember when I thought I could go two months without seeing any doctors?
Shouldn't be too difficult, I thought: arthritis is on a reasonably even keel lately; new defibrillator and leads are in and shouldn't be falling apart anytime soon; new meds are started.
I didn't consider the many little things, all the lovely partners-in-crime of autoimmune diseases, that can surface unexpected. Like shingles, which I began to notice on the palm of my hand on Saturday and which are now covering my hand and arm, swollen, bright red, and painful. I've had shingles before, during a time of intense stress, and I've been feeling increasingly overwhelmed these past few weeks. So here come the shingles.
And thus I found myself at the doctor's office this morning, and then at the pharmacy, shelling out for a week-long course of antivirals.
At first I was angry, and quite averse to a trip to the doctor. There goes my goal, I thought. All I wanted was two months without a medical appointment! Two months of feeling like someone whose body works just fine without expert advice. So I stomped around a bit with furrowed brow, etc.
But then I thought, Ok. Maybe I don't get to be the person who doesn't go to a doctor. Maybe I'll be the person who goes to the doctor and takes care of things right away, and doesn't let them get out of control. That's a pretty good thing to be, right?
And really, if you're going to nip something in the bud, shingles is a good thing to nip. It's gross - both in its symptoms and in its genesis (the chicken pox virus hibernates in the spinal column and then wakes up years later, like an alien), and itchy and sore and unpleasant - for some, it's excruciating, although luckily not for me - and it's a good thing to get rid of if you can.
So I'm taking my horrendously expensive antivirals and attempting to de-stress a little (although I have just agreed to co-chair my city's Walk to Fight Arthritis and have also accepted a research assistant position with a legal history society). And I'm ok with going to the doctor when I need to. I guess.
Shouldn't be too difficult, I thought: arthritis is on a reasonably even keel lately; new defibrillator and leads are in and shouldn't be falling apart anytime soon; new meds are started.
I didn't consider the many little things, all the lovely partners-in-crime of autoimmune diseases, that can surface unexpected. Like shingles, which I began to notice on the palm of my hand on Saturday and which are now covering my hand and arm, swollen, bright red, and painful. I've had shingles before, during a time of intense stress, and I've been feeling increasingly overwhelmed these past few weeks. So here come the shingles.
And thus I found myself at the doctor's office this morning, and then at the pharmacy, shelling out for a week-long course of antivirals.
At first I was angry, and quite averse to a trip to the doctor. There goes my goal, I thought. All I wanted was two months without a medical appointment! Two months of feeling like someone whose body works just fine without expert advice. So I stomped around a bit with furrowed brow, etc.
But then I thought, Ok. Maybe I don't get to be the person who doesn't go to a doctor. Maybe I'll be the person who goes to the doctor and takes care of things right away, and doesn't let them get out of control. That's a pretty good thing to be, right?
And really, if you're going to nip something in the bud, shingles is a good thing to nip. It's gross - both in its symptoms and in its genesis (the chicken pox virus hibernates in the spinal column and then wakes up years later, like an alien), and itchy and sore and unpleasant - for some, it's excruciating, although luckily not for me - and it's a good thing to get rid of if you can.
So I'm taking my horrendously expensive antivirals and attempting to de-stress a little (although I have just agreed to co-chair my city's Walk to Fight Arthritis and have also accepted a research assistant position with a legal history society). And I'm ok with going to the doctor when I need to. I guess.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
??/2/28
There's a lot I don't know about the onset of my juvenile rheumatoid arthritis.
I know my knees turned red and swollen. I know I became easily fatigued, reluctant to get up in the morning. I know my grandpa - a GP - cried when he saw me and suspected JRA.
But that's about it. I was two at the time, so my memory of early symptoms and diagnosis is, for the most part, nonexistent. What I do know I have heard from my parents, relatives, and once, an old family friend who told me about the day years ago when she went in to see my grandpa in his office and he confided his suspicions.
So I don't know what I weighed (what does a two-year-old weigh?), or what I ate (though I'm assuming nobody was shoving potato chips down my throat) or how I spent my days (I liked My Little Ponies).
One of the goals of this year's World Arthritis Day is to break down the myth that people with autoimmune arthritis somehow brought the disease on themselves. I think I'm a pretty good example of how patently untrue this is. At the time of my diagnosis, I was barely myself yet. I wasn't overweight or sedentary or afflicted with an insatiable McDonald's addiction. I didn't have an unhealthy lifestyle. I hardly even had a lifestyle.
I have now had JRA for 26 years, and I know that autoimmune arthritis really can just happen. The belief that patients themselves are to blame is hurtful and unhelpful. Anyone, at any time, can develop arthritis, and misconceptions like these don't get us any closer to improved treatments. Blaming patients is a convenient way of shifting responsibility for the disease, of saying, "this won't happen to me." But it can, and it is happening to millions of people around the world.
What are your numbers? Post your weight at onset, age of onset and current age in the comments or on Facebook or Twitter (@IAAMovement). Help tell the truth about autoimmune arthritis.
I know my knees turned red and swollen. I know I became easily fatigued, reluctant to get up in the morning. I know my grandpa - a GP - cried when he saw me and suspected JRA.
But that's about it. I was two at the time, so my memory of early symptoms and diagnosis is, for the most part, nonexistent. What I do know I have heard from my parents, relatives, and once, an old family friend who told me about the day years ago when she went in to see my grandpa in his office and he confided his suspicions.
So I don't know what I weighed (what does a two-year-old weigh?), or what I ate (though I'm assuming nobody was shoving potato chips down my throat) or how I spent my days (I liked My Little Ponies).
One of the goals of this year's World Arthritis Day is to break down the myth that people with autoimmune arthritis somehow brought the disease on themselves. I think I'm a pretty good example of how patently untrue this is. At the time of my diagnosis, I was barely myself yet. I wasn't overweight or sedentary or afflicted with an insatiable McDonald's addiction. I didn't have an unhealthy lifestyle. I hardly even had a lifestyle.
I have now had JRA for 26 years, and I know that autoimmune arthritis really can just happen. The belief that patients themselves are to blame is hurtful and unhelpful. Anyone, at any time, can develop arthritis, and misconceptions like these don't get us any closer to improved treatments. Blaming patients is a convenient way of shifting responsibility for the disease, of saying, "this won't happen to me." But it can, and it is happening to millions of people around the world.
What are your numbers? Post your weight at onset, age of onset and current age in the comments or on Facebook or Twitter (@IAAMovement). Help tell the truth about autoimmune arthritis.
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