Archive for category Symptoms
I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis or Rheumatoid Autoimmune Disease when I was 29. It’s an awkward age to be told you have a chronic disease.
There was so much I hadn’t yet accomplished. At the time, I was single, struggling to get my business off the ground, training for a marathon, and pushing thoughts of kids and marriage into the future. And then, a diagnosis of RA threw all that up in the air.
I feel like the pieces are still settling, four years later.
I got back together with a long-term boyfriend, largely because of my diagnosis. When I needed him, he was there without question. All the issues we’d had in the past paled to how much we obviously cared for each other, and that remains true today.
I pushed through a lot of ups and down and pain to cross the finish line of my first marathon. Today, I still run. Though training for a second marathon has faltered twice due to pain, I still have it in the back of my mind as a goal.
I tried to manage my business, while attempting to lower stress (doctors orders, and so much easier said than done in the world of start-ups!). The business is now doing better than ever, but stress management remains a constant struggle.
And then there’s kids…
I always figured I’d be a mother someday. I was never in a rush about it, but down the line, raising a family was always something I imagined for myself. After my diagnosis of RA, I suddenly found myself in a new reality.
When you have a name for the pain you’ve been experiencing, it becomes unavoidably real. There was no more blaming running or snowboard injuries. I couldn’t blindly keep pushing myself. I had pain walking and writing, bone erosions that no amount of medication could erase, extreme fatigue that was even causing me to fall asleep at work, a whacked-out GI tract that led to weight loss and avoiding eating all together, and depression because I had no idea why any of the above were happening to me. With a diagnosis came the answer of why, but it also brought the necessity to slow everything down and focus on getting better.
The new reality also meant being placed on strong drugs to control my symptoms, including a chemotherapy drug that is used to induce abortions in ectopic pregnancies. This particular drug requires women to be off of it for an extended period of time before even attempting to get pregnant.
Suddenly, I was far less sure I would ever be a parent. Four years of focusing on my health, coming to terms with living with chronic disease, and finding a new normal has given me the space to seriously revisit the question of parenthood.
Huge questions still exist for me. These are questions that only those of us living with chronic illness and our partners can understand.
Will I be healthy enough to go through pregnancy? If I ween off my RA drugs, will I return to the level of pain I was at pre-diagnosis? Will I be able to stay off the drugs long enough to breastfeed? If I can successfully have one child, will I be able to have another? Will pregnancy make my symptoms worse or better? Will post-pregnancy change my disease trajectory? Will the drugs I’m on be as effective post pregnancy? Will my RA slow me down as a parent? Will I pass the genetic disposition for autoimmune diseases on to my kids?
To help me navigate the complexities of this big decision, I’m reading Arthritis, Pregnancy and the Path to Parenthood by Suzie Edward May.
I’ve only just started the book, but I already identify with Suzie so well. She was diagnosed at 27 before having kids. The book offers a lot of hope, but also non-sugar-coated truth. I’ll give a more complete review when I finish it.
In the meantime, can anyone weigh in on what factors you looked at when deciding to become a parent while living with a chronic disease?
As a cat owner who uses the occasional muscle-relief lotion to combat arthritis pain, I was upset to read this article:
To summarize, the lotions that we use for our aches and pains, are fatal for our kitties. So if you use the lotion, don’t let your kitties lick you. If you use the lotion and then a blanket, make sure you wash the blanket after use before putting it in the same room as your kitty.
We all know those little purr-balls can help us feel better, so lets keep them safe!
Magical Thinking #1: I will find the perfect shoe
Let’s start with my favorite magical thinking first: somewhere out there, exists a perfect shoe for us RAers.
I know I’m lying to myself with this one, but the quest is never ending. I love shoes, so, even with the blisters and sore feet pads, it’s a pretty fun quest to be on.
I have two new shoes to test out in the upcoming months: Faux Fur-Lined Tom’s & Yoga Sling Sanuks. The box was waiting on my doorstep as I came home from work today and I seriously did a happy dance. Shoes! 🙂
So far they’re both very comfortable. I’m bringing both on an upcoming trip, so I’ll let you know how they hold up.
Magical Thinking #2: I can gargle my sore throat away
Way less fun is my sore throat that refuses to subside. It started last Friday and has progressively gotten worse, not better. Despite heaps of vitamin C, garlic, immune boosters, salt water gargling, and my ACV elixir. I was on the fence about whether to skip my Enbrel and methotrexate this week, because both are immune suppressants. My RA symptoms have definitely been more active recently, so I begrudgingly skipped the drugs. Sure enough, today they’re flaring a bit again. So much ugh, only new shoes could cheer me up (see above, yay!).
The surprisingly not awful, throat-soothing, but in no way a cure, ACV elixir recipe:
- A generous splash of organic apple cider vinegar
- A dash of cayenne pepper
- A dash of ground giner
- A heap of honey
- A squeeze of lemon
- Enough hot water to mix it up and make it palatable
Magical Thinking #3: I’m ready to start training for another marathon
It’s counter intuitive, I know. I’m sick, my RA symptoms are flaring, I just bought two new pairs of shoes and they have nothing to do with running…. But there’s something about being stuck on the couch that makes me brainstorm big goals. I’ve mapped out a 10k in May, a half marathon in July, and marathon in October.
We’ll see. The timing may change and the races may change, but I’m motivated to push myself to train for something, despite (or maybe because of) the pain!
Ah, late December. A time of beautiful lights, giving, and the great health insurance scramble.
As co-founder of my company, I’m lucky enough to have a huge impact on choosing the health insurance we provide. One of the deciding factors for me is being able to get my Rheumatoid Arthritis drugs at a low co-pay. Through United Healthcare, it’s been $10 per month for methotrexate, $10 per month for folic acid, and $30 per month for Enbrel.
In other words, $50 a month for drugs. A reasonable-enough price to pay for my health. It is the number one reason we decided to keep our UHC plan for 2015.
So shock me, shock me, shock me (Any Empire Records fans? Read on, there’s a gif for you below.) when I get a letter saying that beginning January 1, 2015, Enbrel will be considered a “Tier 4” drug and will not be eligible for the Enbrel Assistance program. After some digging, I found out that this means it’s going up to $250 per month with no opportunity to enroll in any payment assistance programs Enbrel provides.
What? Merry Christmas to you too, United Healthcare.
Their advice? Try another drug.
That’s all good and fine. They’re willing to cover Humira or Cimzia, but I’m feeling pretty violated. I know violated may seem like a strong word for this situation, but that’s how it’s feeling. I’m being forced to put an unknown drug into my body because my healthcare has made an arbitrary change to their coverage. Enbrel is a known quantity for me. It’s effective in treating my RA, side effects are pretty minimal for me, and my body is used to it. Humira and Cimzia are not.
Not to mention, my rheumatologist claims that though the risk of switching is “probably pretty minimal”, there is a risk that I could lose the efficacy of Enbrel if I ever need it again. Joy!
So, have any of you RA folks made the change from Enbrel to Humira or Cimzia? How did it go? Are any of you on Humira or Cimzia? How did you like it?
Thanks for all your input and Happy Holidays to you all (in the non-grinchy, healthcare-trying-to-screw-you way, of course!)
Oh man, I’ve been neglecting this blog! Sorry guys. There’s nothing like that three month rheumatologist appointment to remind me to get writing!
I’ve been thinking a lot about the journey I’ve been on with my RA. I went from the fear that came with diagnosis, to dogmatic hope and determination that I could get rid of said pesky diagnosis, to bleak acceptance, to a sort of new normal.
That new normal is what I want to talk about. I think it probably looks different for everybody.
But, at any rate, here’s what my new normal means for me:
- it means I normally operate with an acceptance of my disease – it’s chronic, it’s painful, it ebbs and flows
- it means I still hold onto the hope that better scientific research may lead to better treatments and possibly a cure
- it means that I constantly remind myself that “chronic” is just a word. Diseases change and even chronic ones may go away
- it means that I am almost ALWAYS uncomfortably aware of my body. At moments when I want to focus, my feet are screaming (like recently standing during the funeral of a friend…I wanted to be focused and be there for all the people who loved him, but there were my inflamed feet, in pain and begging for my attention). At moments when I want to be serene and zen (like in yoga classes when my wrists are acting up).
- it means that some mornings my feet and hands don’t work the way they should. They’re frozen, sore, and just not ready to start the day
- it means feeling that I’m constantly balancing the desire for understanding with the desire to not burden others by complaining. Usually I stay quiet.
- it means I have a new relationship with some powerful drugs. Drugs with life-changing results and uncomfortable side effects
- it means I am a whole lot more patient with myself and others
- it means that not a day goes by when I’m not grateful for my body, my mind, my life and my loved ones
What does your new normal mean for you?
Rude Awakening posted some great answers to the “30 Things You May Not Know About My Invisible Illness” questionaire in honor of Invisible Illness week: Invisible Illness Week: 30 Things You May Not Know….
She also reminded me, it’s that time of the year again! My answers are below.
30 Things You May Not Know About My Invisible Illness
1. The illness I live with is: Rheumatoid Arthritis (plus Raynaud’s Phenomenon and Chilblains)
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 2012
3. But I had symptoms since: I noticed what I now believe were RA symptoms as far back as 2009. I’ve had Raynaud’s since at least age 14, though possibly much longer. Chilblains began in 2012.
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: Slowing down more often to give my body a break.
5. Most people assume: I’m fine now that I’ve been to the doctor, because I’ve gained weight back and look healthy. They don’t realize that I’m treating symptoms that are chronic and occasionally flare even with treatment – I haven’t “cured” my disease.
6. The hardest part about mornings is: This absolutely depends on the day! Some days mornings are the best, some I have so much fatigue and stiffness I don’t want to move.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: Scrubs!
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: Comfy flats and boots, a jar opener, and warm socks and gloves!
9. The hardest part about nights is: Some days it’s fatigue, some it’s pain, some it’s just knowing I have to get up the next morning, some are totally fine.
10. Each day I take 4-15 pills & vitamins.
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: I love acupuncture and find it helpful and relaxing. Would if I could get more massages! I watch my diet and have cut down on many inflammatory foods, including dairy and gluten. I incorporate anti-inflammatory food/supplements into my diet as much as possible: ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, omega 3s. Perhaps most importantly, I try to do something active most days. On rough days, it may just be a very short walk, on good days, it’s runs, swims, boot camps, dance or yoga.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: Invisible, even though it can be frustrating. Some days I look and feel normal and am able to forget about RA. Those are the best. Plus, being a private person, I prefer being able to choose whether or not I want to share my illness with others. Its invisibility affords me that choice.
13. Regarding working and career: I’m an entrepreneur working on a tech start-up that I co-founded. This means I likely work harder under more stressful conditions than my health and doctor would like. It also means I’m able to work flexible hours that allow me to make my doctor’s appointments and work from home on bad days (even from bed sometimes!). I try to remember to take time to myself to rest and replenish and focus on being healthy.
14. People would be surprised to know: I agree with Rude Awakenings: “Fatigue is as debilitating as pain – some days more so. And I feel like a definition is needed here. Fatigue = flu-like symptoms, not simply being sleepy.” On days with bad fatigue I struggle to do anything, including just talking to the people I love.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: Relying on drugs to feel well and accepting my body’s limitations on rough days.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: I agree with Rude Awakenings here too: “Talk about it so openly.” When I was first diagnosed, I didn’t think I’d be educating people on my illness or reaching out to strangers!
17. The commercials about my illness: All feature older adults, seemingly in their 60s. They perpetuate the myth that Rheumatoid Arthritis is the same as Osteoarthristis and mainly effects older populations.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Not having to wonder how an activity, meal, or drink will effect my RA or interact with my meds. Not having to plan my life and trips around bi-weekly medication, bi-monthly blood tests, and tri-monthly doctor appointments.
19. It was really hard to have to give up: Control over my body. Oh, and dairy, gluten, alcohol and heels (I still enjoy all four in moderation).
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Blogging!
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Similar to last year – I would just go, go, go all day and night, not worrying about lack of sleep, stress on my body, any of that.
22. My illness has taught me: Celebrate the good days and all that my body does for me. Always be patient and kind to others – invisible illnesses are a good reminder that you really don’t know what others are struggling with!
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: Agree with Rude Awakening again, absolutely this: “When people equate their grandmother’s osteoarthritis (or their own!) in her wrist to my autoimmune disease.”
24. But I love it when people: Ask me how I’m doing even if I look fine and want to learn more. I also love when people share their own experiences with autoimmune diseases or offer to put me in touch with friends who also have RA.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: I have many. Here’s a kinda nerdy one: “We take what we can get, Champ, and we do our best with it.” – Cordelia Chase. Another one along the same vein: “Do what you can, where you are, with what you have.” – Teddy Roosevelt
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: It gets better. The pain will decrease when you find the right meds. The loneliness will start to dissipate when others with RA come out of the woodwork and you find online communities to connect with.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: Most people, even those close to you, do not want to think or hear about your illness. Everyone prefers to think that all’s well.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: My boyfriend does this well: we’ll order in and watch a movie, and he won’t let me entertain thoughts of guilt over all that I didn’t accomplish that day.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: I want to create more awareness and understanding of autoimmune diseases. There’s so much that is unknown, underfunded and misunderstood.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Grateful. Thank you for taking the time, and for your support of Invisible Illness Week!
Mine hit me right around the time that my Raynaud’s decided to show it’s full colors (no really, my hands were fantastic colors of red, white and purple). Why? Probably because I was 14 and my hormones were raging.
Whatever reason, come awkward adolescence my hands began to shake. It was worsened when trying to hold something, particularly something that was either extraordinarily delicate or scalding. It was made even worse when there was an audience or I was nervous or embarrassed. As you can imagine, class presentations were my worst nightmare.
And needless to say, awkward adolescence just got a whole lot worse…
On really bad days my head would try to shake itself off my neck. But mostly, it was my hands, with their omnipresent jitter.
Unlike when I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, I knew exactly what I was in for. About half the aunts and uncles on my mom’s side have these same shakes. In fact, many people around the world do. It’s called an Essential Tremor and it can cause your hands, head or voice to shake. We don’t know why and we don’t have a cure (sound familiar?).
One aunt has a particularly bad rendition – her head never pausing. So I was filled with a sense of dread and acceptance when I noticed them in myself; I was one of the unlucky ones, stuck with the shakes and destined to have it for the rest of my life.
To my surprise, by age 16 my Familial Essential Tremor had all but disappeared. Occasionally my hands would shake a bit when I was especially nervous, but it was nothing compared to what it had been a few years earlier. People stopped pointing it out. I was ecstatic.
It’s basically been a non-issue since then. But now suddenly, at the age of 31, I seem to be a bit shakier. It’s not bad enough that it’s affecting my head, but it’s been bad enough to spill hot coffee while pouring, to have people comment and stare yet again, and for me to have flashbacks back to those rough adolescent years.
Like RA and Raynaud’s Phenomenon, there is no cure for an essential tremor. It’s just … a condition. A genetic mutation, according to the Mayo Clinic.
So, what can I do? Well, avoid caffeine, alcohol and stressful situations, for starters. But, since that’s not going to happen for me right now, I’m sticking to hoping that it’ll mysteriously disappear, the reaction to a 30-something’s hormone cycle, like it did when I was 16.