How do I write a 23 year history in a blogl! Hmm ... that is a difficult one! Each event with RA could be turned into a novel. So where to start ... grab a cuppa and a chocolate biccie and here goes!
My first child has arrived, I am happily married, and I have a successful career working as a manager in a Legal Aid Office. Looking ahead I imagine how our lives will pan out; adding to our new family, taking family holidays to the European destinations we have come to love and continuing the job that I do actually enjoy! Really, I do! It all came to a sudden halt when I was diagnosed with severe sero-negative rheumatoid arthritis. That was almost 23 years ago.
It took nine months from the onset of problems, pain in my feet and ankles which I put down to more walking than I was used to, (well you would, wouldn’t you?), to seeing a Rheumatologist. My GP had suggested possible arthritis but it was a long shot; she made the referral ‘just in case’ knowing how long ‘the system’ could take. That’s how it was in those days… a long wait! Arthritis? Me? Good grief, I’m 31 and I have always been very sporty and kept fit. How can I possibly have arthritis? Clearly this GP has no idea, I’m sure I’ll feel better soon. During that ‘waiting period’ I returned to work after maternity leave but problems quickly mounted. Climbing stairs, pulling my chair out from under my desk, opening drawers, opening large files, sitting for long periods, fatigue … you get the gist? The appointment day dawned and boy was I glad; I now believed there was something actually wrong!
Watch out, man at work! Not sure what I expected, a puff of smoke and a diagnosis hanging mid air? Sudden panic as I think perhaps these symptoms aren’t real, perhaps I’ve convinced myself I have a problem. Perhaps they don’t exist and I am about to be found out. Perhaps ... ... I give a history of the symptoms hoping that I don’t sound completely mad ... hurting feet, hurting hands. It isn’t sounding too promising. Then comes the physical examination. Well, exams were never my forte so I can’t imagine this is going to go down to well! He prods and pokes, twists and turns and not one joint escapes his interrogation in the search for a diagnosis. Phial upon phial of blood drain from me. We’re done and now for the results ... the nail biting bit, well it would be if I had any nails left to bite! I was told that when the blood test results came back I would be started on treatment for Rheumatoid Arthritis. Well, it meant nothing to me … why should it? Rheumatoid Arthritis, what on earth? Oh well, he did say it could happen after childbirth but would likely burn itself out after a couple of years. I clung to that lifeline …
That appointment took place just before Christmas and two days later I couldn’t move; I was in agony, burning up, nauseous, very tired. I had never experienced this sort of pain or distress before! Not a great way to spend Christmas, my daughter’s first. I was prescribed high dose Prednisolone and Chloroquine (successful treatments were few and far between in those days and steroids were the accepted way forward). Childbirth was the catalyst; it set the wheels in motion for the years that followed. In the following months I lost three stone as my appetite disappeared: I was only nine stone to start with! I could barely walk, I couldn’t look after myself, everything was so painful. I had a baby daughter I couldn’t look after … it was heartbreaking. I was not well enough to return to work and a year later, June 1990, I was medically retired. The ‘magic’ two years passed … still, I clung to that lifeline.
I tried every drug I was offered. I spent a fortune on pills and potions that I read about and believed in, “would it be …my savior? … my cure? I tried various diets but of course how would they help an auto-immune disease? I wasn’t getting better; this RA, it wasn’t going to burn itself out, was it? I stayed positive, why should I let this beast of a disease take my life, my life with my family. It had already taken my career. I fought back.
The arrival of our three boys, twins Ian and Jake in 1993, and Louis shortly afterwards in 1994, completed our family. The pregnancies gave me temporary relief from RA. Although not quite in the plan, I now had a large family, three babies under 16 months and a 6 year old. I remained positive; RA would just have to take a backseat, I had other things to deal with.
Three months after the birth of Louis I am back on the drug regime and the following six years were a time of trial and error with a modicum of success thrown in; gold injections, sulphasalazine, leflunomide, azathioprin, methotrexate and the rest. Regular blood tests merged with numerous visits to the baby clinics, hospitals, nurseries and schools. Each drug was going to be the one for me, the one that would give me back my life, the one that would see the back of this wretched disease. Each drug worked for a time and hopes were raised … but then, without reason, efficacy dwindled and hopes were dashed. It was a gut wrenching time as I could only watch our children grow, unable to join in family games and be a ‘proper’ Mum. By the time I’d done the meals, cleaning, washing, shopping and everything else that tags along with the life of mum I had no energy left for anything else. Reading bedtime stories became my special time with the kids. I could still read and I could still speak, thankfully.
At last, we are on the threshold of a new drug therapy, anti-tnf. Its 2003, I am put forward for a trial of Infliximab (Remicade). The results of the infusions were literally amazing; I had my life back and with it I was able to do many of the things I believed I might never do again. Unfortunately, a year later, it lost its potency, problems started to return and its back to the drawing board. Three months later I was offered Enbrel (Etanercept) in combination with methotrexate. The combination has been wonderful and worked well alongside a maintenance dose of prednisolone, until …
Early last year Neutropenia took hold; the body’s inability to produce sufficient neutrophils to fight infection. Cause … Methotrexate! So it’s goodbye Methotrexate, hello, Naproxen, an anti inflammatory, but better than nothing! Think I’ve tried and failed on all the DMARDS so now I wait and see how things go. One operation later, one huge flare later, things aren’t looking too good. I have Leflunomide added to the mix and now I wait …
I will have to live with the joint damage caused by years of relatively uncontrolled disease. Some of that can be repaired by surgery. The necessary has been done (wrist replacement, thumb joint removal and fusion, metatarsal head removal, lens replacement, knee repairs, to name a few!) … the rest will wait for now! There are new medications being licensed all the time and I know the future brings with it hope for all of us with RA. Disease control is paramount for us all. So, when you are poppin’ the pills that you really would prefer not to take (they are, after all, mighty toxic stuff), remember, they are a means to an end and nothing more. A fistful of pills is a small price to pay for a life, yes, one with a chronic disease, but hopefully one free from joint damage. And through it all I remain positive that one day …