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Friday, November 4, 2016

The Diagnosis That Changed My Life


June 1, 2015 will be a day I remember my whole life.  That is when I received my official diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis.  It took 5 months, which is a very short period of time.  There are many people with rheumatoid arthritis who go undiagnosed and or misdiagnosed for years before receiving a diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis.  I was misdiagnosed in the beginning, but I listen to my body very well.  I knew it was more.  Fortunately, my primary care physician listened to my concerns as well.  He didn’t brush off my symptoms.  He didn’t tell me it was all in my head.  He didn’t throw a diagnosis at me without doing any kind of workup.  It makes a world of difference when you have a great primary care physician like mine. 

My story began probably much earlier than I realize, but when my health regarding my joints started to concern me was in February 2015.  Some of our close friends had moved to a different part of the state, about three hours north of us.  We hadn’t seen them since they left about 9 months prior.  In early February, my husband and I  planned a weekend trip to go see them.  It was so much fun.  We are always cracking jokes and laughing so hard our stomachs hurt.  They have three wonderful, beautiful children that we adore.  There is never a dull moment when we visit with them. 

We were having a great weekend.  I believe we smoked a huge piece of pork that weekend, we drank, we laughed, and just had a great time.  On our last evening there, I developed a pain in my right wrist.  Did I hurt myself?  I am clumsy so I very well could have.  As the sun set and the stars came out, the pain was getting worse.  It had moved up my arm and I could feel pain to my elbow.  Seriously, what the heck did I do to myself?  I was concerned.  I had to go to work in a day or so and my job is 100% computer based.  I wanted to go get seen and within a few hours I could not move my wrist, but I was not going to pay out of network costs for wrist pain.  I decided to suck it up and I would get seen when I return home the next afternoon.  Just when I thought the pain could not get any worse, I was proven wrong.  By the time it came to go to bed I couldn’t move my wrist or my fingers.  I was in so much pain and the inflammation/swelling was the worst I have ever had.  It was so bad, the touch of the sheet on my wrist/hand only exacerbated the situation.  A sheet, really? I was really concerned, but I was dumbfounded because I did not injury myself. 

Upon our return home, I went to the emergency department.  I had to work the next day and that was impossible if I could not move my hand, fingers, or wrist.  I was seen by a doctor who just looked at me and diagnosed me with tendonitis.  The doctor had given me a sling to immobilize my wrist and told me to take Ibuprofen for the pain and swelling.  At the time, this seemed like a very probable, legitimate diagnosis for me.  I am a medical coder, and prior to that I was a medical transcriptionist for 5 years.  Computer work is the foundation of my career.  Tendonitis, carpal tunnel, something I would not be surprised with given my career.   I followed up with my primary care physician.  Some x-rays were done and he agreed with the diagnosis of tendonitis. 

That was February 2015.  After that, the flood gates opened.  I ended up having similar symptoms develop in both wrists, neck, right shoulder, right hip, both knees, and both feet.  This was not tendonitis.  I would be more inclined to believe it was if it was just my right wrist and no other joints were involved.  I knew something more was going on.  My physician started to think the same.  I couldn’t suffer any more at work.  It was agonizing to work through debilitating pain and swelling.  There were some evenings I could not prepare our dinner because I couldn’t cut through a cucumber to save my life.  My husband was such an amazing support through this time.  He learned to identify when I was having issues and he knew I wouldn’t ask him for help and that I would just suck it up.  There were many times he came behind me and took the knife out of my hand and made dinner.  I was disheartened by my struggles.  I was a 27-year-old woman, why is my body doing this to me.  I couldn’t do the things I loved anymore.  I couldn’t hike, fish, make jewelry, and had trouble cooking.  Fatigue and tiredness just overwhelmed me and I was falling asleep at 7/8 in the evening most nights.  During the day I felt like I could take a nap just by putting my head down.  I am the type of person who cannot take a nap so this was surprising.  There was more going on and I knew it was time to do more tests. 

In late May 2015 my doctor decided to run blood work for rheumatoid arthritis.  He mentioned that they would take a lot of blood, and by golly they sure did take a lot of blood.  It was around 12 vials of blood that the lab drew and sent off for testing.  Then, on June 1, 2015 I received a call from my doctor diagnosing me with moderate to severe rheumatoid arthritis.  I went back to see him a few days later to discuss the diagnosis and start medical therapy. 

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