The Girl With Arthritis

     A month ago, I remember putting my hand over my heart; I could feel it racing, pounding, and skipping beats. It was worn and tired, and so was I. The weeks leading up to that moment were brutal. For six weeks, I was lucky to get four hours of sleep most nights, and all my waking hours were spent stressed and working intensely for finals. Most days, I didn’t really talk to anyone and I skipped meals to accommodate more working hours. Ultimately, I was running myself into the ground. And I didn’t care.      But then came that moment, when I realized my heart was struggling from the stress. A long night in the emergency room made me stop working for the first time since March, and forced me to be still and reflect on my actions. I stared at the monitor that showed a heart that was trying so hard to slow down, and I thought about how cruel I’ve been to it.      It’s been an extremely hard year. I would love to sugar coat that statem...

I never liked him, and I don't think he liked me. That was fine by me. I was very quiet and an easy target. He was very loud and brash, and even at my ripe age of eleven I found him extremely obnoxious. I was glad when we didn't have classes together- it meant I could get my work done without comments that turned me red in anger and embarrassment. I was often picked on by my classmates, but he made my blood boil- somehow, he always knew just what to say or do to make me angry. One time he sprayed a pungent cologne in my face, and laughed when I scowled. Every day, I wished he would go away. I hated him, and I don't think he ever liked me. I haven't thought about him in years, and I don't think he thought of me either. Why would we when there was no reason to? We went on to go to different schools in different towns, and we never crossed paths again. With no mutual friends- not even Facebook friends- there was no reason we would ever need to remember each other, ...

Last year, I did an eight week course. It was an art class almost every Saturday morning, from mid October to December. I really did enjoy the class: It was a lot of fun! I made friends within the class and got a lot of good artistic advice, and even more confidence in my work. I don't regret doing the class what so ever. My body, on the other hand, hated it very much. I tend to be busy over the week (and by 'busy,' I mean going to school, coming home and doing homework in bed). But those weeks were extremely busy for me: Things started popping up from nowhere! It was a bit more than I could handle. There was actually a point when I became so stressed out that accidentally spilling coffee on some paperwork I was supposed to be sending out sent me into a hysterical screaming fit. Mentally, I was breaking down. But the physical toll was much more intense. I lost my Saturdays to recover from school since I was out of the house by six thirty in the morning (just like every...

Depending on where you live, it may or may not be bullying awareness week. Regardless of where you live, every week should be bullying awareness week. It's a huge issue that no longer is an issue within only schools but even in home with the increasing use of social media. Bullying within the work place is also becoming a huge issue too. Bully is an extremely common thing to be a victim of and/or witness. I know I have. When I was younger, I wasn't bullied horribly by other children. I had lots of times where I was miserable, but it could've been much worse. I do recall, however, being bullied by teachers an awful lot. I was a very quiet and sometimes sensitive child- I cried one time whilst reading a book about kittens. Alright, I was a really sensitive child. But it's not an excuse for a child to be afraid to speak because she liked the silence more than her ears being filled with insults from the mouths of her peers and instructors. I haven't dealt with bull...

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...

When I was little, there were a few children in my class who had allergies to peanuts. Obviously, at the age of nine I didn't know much about allergies since they never really affected me. We were informed that we needed to wash our hands after eating things with peanuts in them, and then the teacher allowed us to ask questions about the allergies. One of the children asked about if chocolates are okay, and one of the children with allergies said that it was okay only if they weren't made in the same place as peanuts were. That made me think about my favourite chocolate things so I asked, "Are chocolate biscuits okay?" And one of the children smiled and said, "yes, I love those." "It's not a chocolate  allergy, of course chocolate biscuits are acceptable," My teacher barked at me. Even though I still had more questions, I didn't ask anymore. I didn't like feeling dumb so I just sat quietly and hoped someone else asked the questions I ...

Someone once told me the best way to get better at drawing is to draw the body. I still agree it's probably the best way to become better at drawing. Most artists who went to school to study art- and even some who didn't- have taken at least one figure drawing class. A nude figure drawing class, specifically. I have takens loads of those and it made me a better artist. It also made me grossed out of old men for a whilst, but that's a different story. Anyway, the class taught me more than just drawing skills though. It showed me how different we all are. When we're little, we talk about how girls and boys are different. On blogs like this, We talk about people with disabilities and those without them having different bodies. But it seems like sometimes we forget that everyone is so different, and absolutely no one is perfect. We all have those imperfections we really hate about ourselves, and I've seen on other people: large surgical scars, wiry frames, a little e...

Dear Elizabeth, What are you doing?! You should be burning out any day now, and I'll make sure of that! Really? Volunteer work? I get it, it's good for others... But not so for me. Let's pay a little more attention to who controls if you have the stamina to, alright? School... I get it, you've got your priorities but I've got mine too. You can't neglect me so you can go to school . And now your doing Saturday classes... Really? You think you can handle that? Well, I'll make sure you've got your hands full between classes and me. Oh, and lets not forget those stupid art projects your always working on. I know your working on lots of things, especially for The Girl with Arthritis, but what about me?! Don't you ever sit down like I want you to? Elizabeth... I miss you. You're just so busy all the time... There just hasn't been enough time for me lately. You just don't pay attention to me anymore. I miss all the time we spent toge...

I'm going back to school really soon. In a way, I can't wait. I really love learning and I can't wait to see my friends. I'm looking forward to making more friends and my classes. But what I'm not looking forward to is Arthur's reaction. You see, Arthur hates school a lot. After a break with good weather, comfortable chairs and being able to get up and stretch as needed, I already know the first few weeks are going to be torture. Every year Arthur makes adjusting back to school difficult for lots of teenagers, young adults and children. On top of having new responsibilities, getting used to new routines and meeting new people, we also deal with more pain than usual. It tends to get colder when school is back in session, and that can easily bring more pain. Sitting for long periods of time doesn't help, especially when few  practice proper posture in school. Writing more often may also be painful. And of course, everyone is different: Walking around a large...

Let's face it, arthritis isn't a great thing. But there are things I like to call 'Arthritis Perks.' These are nice things that happened because I have arthritis. They definitely don't make up for having to deal with Arthur, but they certainly make things more tolerable- which is why they're 'perks' and not 'advantages.' Even though I did have a horrendous time with some gym teachers, there were some great ones. They let me participate as I could, and sometimes they'd come right up and say 'Elizabeth, you don't have to do this.' And I was alright with that! A few times when I was in swimming class, we had to swim laps across the pool. After each lap, you had to get out and do ten push ups and ten sit ups. The teachers just let me swim a little, and I was fine with that. Honestly, I had a hard getting out of the pool when I got tired, sit-ups were always painful unless I was on a soft surface and push-ups just aren't possib...

So we've heard about my horrible gym teachers (' Horrible Gym Class '). But what I haven't told you about is my horrid health teacher. We'll call her Miss A. Miss A was a new teacher, who had only just graduated the year before. We were the first class she had ever taught. And by the end of it, I prayed we would be the last. Although she started out quite nice, it quickly escalated. At this point in my life, I was diagnosed as just juvenile idiopathic arthritis. I was also taking Methotrexate and wasn't feeling well- I was always feeling sick and cold. Rest assured, I had no tolerance for nonsense. Unfortunately, that's all the class was. I would like to let you know right now that she knew I was sick. She knew all about my arthritis and getting shots and stuff. In one particular class, we were talking about drugs. The ones you inject, in particular. That's when Miss A informed us that the more often you have injections, the more likely you are to ...

In this post, I talk about a very hard time after I was diagnosed with arthritis. I share this because I think it's important for others to know that this is a hard disease. For the longest time I felt weak and that I was the only one weak enough to feel this way. But I know now that that is far from the truth: Many people feel this way and it's because they are strong. I know I'm not the first when I say 'I don't want to be alone in this disease.' I don't think anyone has ever said, 'I want to fight this alone,' and actually meant it. It's an ongoing thing that never seems to end, with surprises at every corner. I couldn't go on if it weren't for the wonderful people behind me. I know that for a fact because there was a point when I had almost no one. I did it almost alone for a long time. I had my mum, and she had me. Even then, sometimes there was a wall of fatigue between us. I was newly diagnosed and was taking methotrexate. It ...

Oh the dreaded 'W' position. A way of sitting that has scared parents, doctors and teachers for generations. Children have found it comfortable whilst the adults around them shift and squirm. What's so big about sitting W? From what  I understand, sitting W puts stress on the knees, ankles and hips and is typically easier for some children because it requires less trunk strength. It also provides more area to spread weight, making it easier for children with less body strength to sit up. At the same time, it forces the hips to swing out in an unnatural position. There have been cases of hip dislocation and other injury resulting from it, in fact I even had a cousin who's knee popped out after sitting in the W position all day at school. I was a W sitter. I figured out how comfortable it was when I was about two or three years old. I only stopped when I was about ten years old after a doctor yelled at me to stop. It was the most comfortable for me. I didn't have ...

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 ...

There aren't many times people really get what arthritis is like. But there are a rare few who do. And I can't stress how much I appreciate people like them. And I'm very lucky to have come across a few. When I was about twelve years old I had this one teacher who absolutely loved me. She was sweet one day but could be very harsh the next, so I was rather wary of her. Regardless of her mood, however, she always had a smile and word of encouragement for me. Toward January of that year, she went in for carpal tunnel surgery. It didn't sound pleasent. Whilst talking to her after the surgery when she came back to teach, she told me about how painful her wrists were. That's when I told her I have juvenile arthritis. Her reaction was that of pure "I Get It." She was so upset to hear of the arthritis. So much so that she nominated me for an international student trip! She told me "You have perfect grades and go through all that pain everyday- you deserve i...

I was taught that teachers are there to help us. And typically this is the case. Except for gym teachers.  I used to go to school with very athletic children. Naturally, gym classes were very competitive and intense. And with extremely athletic children comes extremely athletic teachers. The worst was a woman who didn't take 'I can't,' 'I'm sick,' or 'My bone is literally protruding from my skin,' as an excuse to sit out of class or to take it easy. One can only imagine the fun I had in that class: Crying after a horrible game of basketball where she kept yelling at me to push harder. Her encouraging everyone to call me names when I limped heavily. Being treated horribly by her after my doctor made it clear I am not to participate and should do special excersises instead. And my favourite; The time she made me cry of embarrassment when she pointed out how slow I am, how 'stupid' my knees look and why I'm generally inferior. What ...

I'm obviously not a young teenager. However, I once was. And I was a young teenager with arthritis too. That was not a fun time at all. Not only was my body going through all those awkward phases, but I had to deal with arthritis, medicines, side effects and a lot of emotional pain from all that. It's hard to forget life back then. Recently I've thought about that time. And I'm willing to share some of it in the form of confessions. And now I present Confessions of a (Young) Teenager with Arthritis. 1. My mood swings were both hormones and medicine. It's not well known that many medications can cause mood changes in people. Thus it's not surprise that I was very moody. Whilst it doesn't happen to everyone, it happened to me. Fridays were my Methotrexate days and the rest of the weekend could be miserable at times. It was very bad at times, so much so I said a lot of things I still regret. 2. I felt alienated from my peers. Okay, I never exactly fit in wi...

It is glaringly obvious I have not been writing regularly. Lately there is a day or two between posts. Honestly, I did this at first because I began to worry posts everyday are annoying. Now, it's because I haven't much time to write. And I am sorry for that. Believe me when I say I very much enjoy writing and it hurts to be away so much (even more than Arthur). I'm not going to sit here and write excuses for you. That's rather boring. But I am going to be very busy for about two or three more weeks. Please excuse me in advance if I don't get to write much or if my posts don't appear like my normal ones. It's an extremely stressful time right now, but fortunately it will get better. It just takes time. Hopefully Arthur will cooperate to help. So I leave you here for right now. This isn't an excuse post for me to forget you for two weeks. It's an apology post in advance for having too little time and too much stress. Please bare with me: I'm t...

I've always felt that rainy days make for the best school days (rest assued, there have been many), simply because you're being productive on a day where you would be kept inside and bored anyway. I would much rather have a sunny day be a day to myself than a rainy one. A lot of people are affected by weather. Cold tends to make arthritis worse, but rain can too. It's scientifically proven that the change of pressure when it rains is painful for arthritic joints. I'm one of those people who don't do well in the cold. I also don't do too well in the rain either, though its not nearly as bad. Regardless, I still think those are the perfect days to work: Sometimes I find its a distraction from the pain. Then again, pain is really distracting in its own right. I've had days I couldn't focus at all, and usually by the end of the day I'm in a lot of pain anyway. In reality, there's no one day that's better for work or rest than another, it'...

I've had a bad day. And it wasn't even a bad arthritis day. I don't like how it seems that people don't appreciate the good things you do for  them. But what's worse is when they yell at you for the good things you do. Maybe I've got it wrong, but when someone does something nice for me, I thank them. And when people offer me something, I either accept and thank them or decline and thank them. I'm obviously very wrong. The one thing that I hate the most however, is that the good in life is unappreciated. People are sponges: we tend to forget that if we only bring bad into our lives, that's all we can accept. If we welcomed good with arms wide open, we might see more of it. Bad days will happen, but we don't have to have them everyday. Sometimes it seems like people like being miserable though: Complaining, it seems, is quite fun. Then again, that's probably because I'm surrounded by teenagers. I've often heard the saying "Bird...