our love story, part iii

This part of our story doesn't necessarily fit into a time line as it has been a significant part of our relationship from the very beginning. When I met Andrew, January 18, 2002, I was nursing my knee because I thought I had hurt my knee playing soccer. I went to my orthopedic surgeon, we scheduled a surgery to fix a very small tear in my meniscus, but not long before I was going to have surgery, my other knee became swollen and sore. My orthopedic surgeon did a blood test and when the results came in, February 2002, I found out that I had Rheumatoid Arthritis.

Just a quick tutorial: RA is an autoimmune disorder where your white blood cells that are supposed to protect your body from harm begin to overproduce and attack your joints. If gone untreated, it causes severe joint deformation and eventually, you are unable to move at all. If caught early, RA can be treated with drugs and your body can be halted from doing any further harm to itself.

I remember leaving the appointment and calling Andrew. We hadn't known each other for much longer than a month but he made me promise I would call him and let him know what I found out. When I called, I remember that he was asking questions about exactly what it was and what that would mean for me. Neither of us really knew the extent this would affect our lives but he made sure that I knew he would be there with me as I dealt with it.

Over the following months, my RA worsened quickly. My entire body was overwhelmed with pain and inflammation. It was difficult to walk because my feet were sore. It was difficult to pick up anything because my wrists and hands hurt to touch. After laying or sitting for a while, getting up was incredibly pain staking because my joints would "stick" in the previous place. I remember the severe pain that no one really understood and a depression that I quite quickly fell into.

I had played soccer since I was four and was diagnosed with RA right before my final season. There was no way I could run down the field and kick a ball when I could barely get out of bed. I had lost control over my body, but I controlled what I ate. I quit eating regularly and lost about 30 pounds while trying to deal with this autoimmune disorder I didn't ask for and frankly, didn't deserve.

My parents and I were on a quest for medications to make my pain disappear. We went through 3 rheumatologists, numerous medications and nothing was really working. The pain would decrease slightly with one medication but it would make me dizzy or others wouldn't work at all. I was angry while my family and Andrew felt helpless.

Though he couldn't be with me all the time, he made sure I knew that he was thinking about me. After doctors' appointments, Andrew made sure to follow up and see what was said or what happened. We were 17 years old, he was in his first year at UGA while I was still in Franklin and he stuck with me. Nothing can represent his love for me more than one of the nights he was visiting me at home and I was in so much pain that I couldn't walk up the stairs to my bedroom. Days like this would come and go and I would normally just sleep in a bed downstairs. This was the first time he had seen me this bad and he refused to let it stop me from sleeping in my bed. Andrew picked me up in his arms, carried me up the stairs, put me into bed and made sure that I was comfortable before letting me go to sleep.

We were 17...this isn't something you are supposed to deal with at 17...this is something no one should ever have to deal with. I would have understood if he had run away, but he didn't. Before that day, I knew I loved him. It was that moment where I knew that I wanted him to be with me forever. If we had to deal with this for the rest of our lives, I wanted him to be the one carrying me up the stairs.

Time passed, better medication came along and I was better able to deal with my RA and the pain that came along with it. The pain still existed, but I saw a positive future ahead of me. I started eating again, put weight back on, was able to play soccer (though on a limited basis) and there was hope.

In my freshman year at UGA, after dealing with RA for almost 2 years, my dad found the drug that made me "me" again. Enbrel is the best thing that ever happened to me. After I started taking Enbrel, I was able to start exercising again, pain didn't dictate my daily schedule and life returned to normal.

Even after Enbrel, my wrists still cause problems for me. Sometimes there are really close to normal, other days have morning stiffness, soreness after extensive use and sometimes there are weeks that are filled with pain. I deal with it, appreciate that this pain is not all over my body and try to move on. I can remember so many times when Andrew and I would be wrestling or just picking on each other and I would hit my wrist on something, he would accidentally move it the wrong way or it would get caught underneath me in an awkward way. The pain was excruciating, the playing would stop and Andrew's eyes would fill with worry like that you only see from people who love you most. He would apologize profusely even though it wasn't his fault, stay by my side as I waited for the pain to pass and help me take special care of it for the rest of the day.

There are still occasional flare-ups that I have to deal with but on a daily basis, I live like any other "normal" person. I have an amazingly supportive family: parents that are constantly looking for ways to make me better, siblings who are always making sure I am okay and Andrew who gives me strength and love that helps me through.

Rheumatoid Arthritis has always been a part of our relationship but it has never defined it.

To be continued...