The Girl With Arthritis

 I go to school with a wide variety of characters. And no, it's not because they're art students. Actually, at least half time time I go to classes with -gasp- other people. Oh the horror! Yes, there are kids studying for every type of profession. I've noticed the most popular is nursing. In fact, I would bet money on saying that for every ten students I've met, at least two are going to be nurses. Nursing has been a very popular career choice for a long time, and many think it's a stable, rewarding job. And I agree with that: Sometimes I wish I had what it takes to nurse. But I know I couldn't, so I moved on. I just wish others would too. The other day I sat in class, quietly reviewing for an exam when I heard person loudly talking about their job. I found this person is studying to be a nurse, and is working as a nursing assistant in a dementia and Alzheimer's ward. What I also found was that I'm horrified of what's happening there. This person ...

A few weeks ago I was talking with a student nurse. Our conversation somewhat ended coldly, but not the way you would expect. You see, this person happened to say, "I mean, it's just arthritis." I kind of smirked, gave a small laugh and said "You're lucky you said that to me and not a patient: I know what you meant, but a patient would think you just completely dismissed their pain." As I gave her the heads up, she proceeded to obviously lose attention and began to text and laugh at a message, not acknowledging I had spoken at all. I get it. Nursing is an extremely difficult career. Believe when I say I understand- not completely, of course, since I'm not a nurse- but I see a lot of things they put up with and lots of great things they do enough to see the passion behind it. I'm in hospitals enough to be reminded of this constantly. And I understand that there will be one patient with a slight fever who insists they are extremely ill and in agon...

I've had this one thing on my chest for a long time. It's a bit of a touchy issue but right now seems like a good time to say it. It's hard to say it nicely so I'm just going to say it how I see it: I hate when people who don't have a drive to nurse become nurses. It honestly concerns me because I know so many people like that, one of them saying the other day '[Censored] this, I'm only in it for the money.' As a person who constantly receiving medical care, this is a bit horrifying. Many other people don't care about my thought. "We need more nurses." "It's a respectful job." "It's a steady job." And lots of other things will and have been said in protest to my thought. But most of these people don't realise what an affect it can have on the main goal: Patient care. I've been in and out of hospitals for years- both specifically for children and general hospitals for adults. I've met a whole var...

"How are you doing?" This is a question that doctors and nurses often ask. 'Same as normal'- my normal, not a healthy person's normal. It's just the life I got use to. It's this life where pain is constant, and that's accepted because we have no cure. When other people ask me this, sometimes I know they care. And that's great- I can't thank them enough and I'm very grateful to have them. I know that they want to hear good news, and sometimes I have it and I'm happy to share, but a lot of the time I don't. Unfortunately, it feels like they only want the good news, because otherwise everything is depressing. And I feel guilty that I can't give them the news that they want to hear, so I tell them 'It's alright.' It's not a lie because most of the time I can manage. Even then, I see the whole hearted smile fade a little bit because I didn't say 'I'm cured.' Others really don't care. And that...

I remember being about three years old and announcing that when I grew up, I wanted to be a doctor. Even as a young child, I thought medicine was absolutely fascinating. Though my title changed from doctor to nurse, I loved the idea of caring for people. I wasn't interested in anatomy as much as I was interested in treatments and procedures. In fact, at the age of ten I could preform virtual heart surgery in forty seconds flat, tell you what IV and PICC stand for (intravenous and peripherally inserted central catheter- I never forgot), and I read medical journals all the time. It was adorable. Also, I thought hospitals were cool. I still think they are. I always knew I was sick- we didn't have a name for it, but pain doesn't happen for no reason. I liked the idea that I would make sure no one would walk around knowing their sick but getting no answers. I wanted to be that miracle nurse or doctor who never gave up and let their patients suffer. When I was eleven and going ...

I think there is a lot of communication in the world. Cellphones have made it so an individual can be reached in a moments notice. The Internet has made it easier than ever to be connected with others from countries half way across the world from you. We even have more travel opportunities than ever before. However, as much as we would like to say people communicate more wisely today, we really can't. Our communication can only go so far. In the medical world, communication is a very complicated thing. It can go several ways and is different for every person.  A patient may be in extreme pain and can express that pain, but for whatever reason that pain may not be  received by a nurse or doctor. A doctor can recommend a treatment, but a patient can reject it without hearing the explanation of why it's needed, the consequences of not having it, and the benefits. A doctor or nurse may not communicate with a patient or quickly dismiss them. And there are many ot...

Confessions of a teenager with arthritis. 1. I am embarrassed. Embarrassed of my knees, my weakness, stiffness, pain, and most especially my limp. I don't want to bring attention to my legs or be the only person walking in the corridor, and I truly hate that my face gives away pain. 2. I know people think I'm faking, and why wouldn't they? I'm a seemingly healthy, young lady and I must obviously be looking for attention. Even doctors are suspicious and every time there is a fluctuation in my weight, I know they instantly suspect eating disorders. It couldn't possibly be the new medicines. 3. It's hard to relate to kids my own age about a lot of things: you don't realise it, but chronic illness changes a lot in your life. I talked about this in my post 'Arthritis Normal.' A lot of kids my age think its odd that I take my time getting where I need to and that I don't enjoy parties, as well as other things. 4. As much as I would like to be i...

My visit to the hospital yesterday was a rather good one, I'd say. I'd like to start off saying that Enbrel has definitely helped, and it showed in the fact I showed more range of motion just about everywhere and I have slight pain reduction. Two great, promising things. A 5% improvement in just a few weeks is great hope. Sometimes people tell me that hospitals as depressing. I don't really look at doctors and hospitals to be something to be depressed about. I rather like my doctors, nurses (most of them anyway), technicians, and the other patients and families I meet. We laugh an awful lot and have great conversations. I know getting your blood drawn is unpleasant, but it doesn't have to be completely unpleasant: A great phlebotomist and conversation can really make it 95% better! But anyway, my mum and I tried a new restaurant afterward. Even though we hated it, it was great that we got to go out and try something different. We did some shopping and had a great ...

My last Enbrel injection was one I certainly will never forget: I injected myself with it for the first time. Actually, I injected my own needle for the first time in my life. It was nerve wracking but I had my mum and nurse right there, and I had experienced Enbrel before. I knew exactly what to do as I had a bit of training and the needle is actually very small. I used my stomach (my current favourite injection spot). I stood for a minute pondering if I was really ready for this. But in a quick moment of bravery, I used 'the swift, dagger like motion' I was taught. When I realised what I had done, I got nervous and started shaking a little. I injected Enbrel slowly, as it is known to burn and last time I got a warm feeling. I didn't feel  a thing: I didn't even have any pain from inserting the needle. What did hurt was taking it out as my hand shook the tiniest bit, but no injury so I was fine. Just a slight pain. The nurse (who knows me very well) was so proud, as...

Many times doctors and nurses are able to help people recover from diseases. Sometimes doctors and nurses can't help you and they want to. There's no cure or pain relief for some diseasees. A poem that was about a young child with cancer put it "The worse part about being in the hospital, is that they give you all the ice cream you want because they know there is nothing better they can do. Ice cream can't make things better." And it's true. People who are terminally ill often have their wildest dreams and wishes granted. Kids with arthritis, epilepsy, and such often have camps and fun days devoted to them. This, they feel, is the best way to treat a person because when giving them a cure isn't possible, giving them happiness is the next best thing. I don't see this as a bleak thing. I see this as a life lesson.

I've only ever trusted many people in my life. It sounds odd to say 'I've only ever' at the beginning, but this is how teenagers talk. For example, when you tell them a secret they say "I won't tell anyone" however the next day everyone knows your secret. When you confront your friend they say "I didn't tell anyone except him, him, her, her, him, her, her, her, her, and they might've told their friends." The vast majority of these people I've had to trust are doctors and nurses. I've had no choice but to trust doctors and nurses. Not that I trust every one of them: I don't, with good reasons not to (Like the nurse who always gets my weight wrong). But when a doctor finally believes you're sick, you tend to trust this person will help you. Or if you've ever been rushed into hospital and are in so much pain you can't think for yourself, you know the feeling of putting your trust into someone's hands. Even your ...

When I was eight years old, I had my first flare up. I had to go to hospital for a week, and it was terrible. The flare up actually lasted about three weeks, but I was only in hospital for the worst week. I know nurses work very hard, but I had a terrible experience with my nurses. They started my IV wrong, often made me walk when it was simply too painful to, sat on the bed causing discomfort as they made me move (not a good idea), would be short with me when I couldn't move (I was extremely stiff) among many other things. However there was one nurse whom I absolutely adored. She was very patient with me, and often soothed me. In fact, she stayed with me during an MRI when my mum couldn't be there with me. I recall she used to come at random with ice lollies (Popsicles). During my hospital stay, my aunt brought me fishes in seperate bowls. To say thank you, I gave the nurse one of them and she put it in the waiting room for people to enjoy. To this day I still think about he...