"You walk like a duck," my husband said as we walked across the Target parking lot. "That's right, but I'm walking," I replied in a determined, almost defiant voice.
The day was cool, windy, damp and cloudy. It was my first day out of the house after recovering from another rheumatoid arthritis (RA) flare-up, which had kept me indoors for a week and a half. Jim, my husband, had offered to use the handicap sticker, the one he had insisted I get six years ago. But I emphatically stated that I would walk the distance from the regular parking spots to the store. The walk would be good for me.
I've lived with the disease for 10 years now. At first there were sore feet and shoes that wouldn't fit and stiff, achy fingers that needed coaxing. I ignored them. After observing how my parents dealt with arthritis—my dad had severe osteoarthritis and my mom had rheumatoid arthritis—I believed I could keep moving despite the condition, and handle my arthritis with dignity.
http://www.newsweek.com/2008/01/03/living-with-arthritis.htmlgood read.
moving this upWow. That's an amazing essay. Thanks for posting and bumping this. [QUOTE=Hennagirl]Wow. That's an amazing essay. Thanks for posting and bumping this. [/QUOTE]"You walk like a duck," my husband said as we walked across the Target parking lot. "That's right, but I'm walking," I replied in a determined, almost defiant voice.
The day was cool, windy, damp and cloudy. It was my first day out of the house after recovering from another rheumatoid arthritis (RA) flare-up, which had kept me indoors for a week and a half. Jim, my husband, had offered to use the handicap sticker, the one he had insisted I get six years ago. But I emphatically stated that I would walk the distance from the regular parking spots to the store. The walk would be good for me.
I've lived with the disease for 10 years now. At first there were sore feet and shoes that wouldn't fit and stiff, achy fingers that needed coaxing. I ignored them. After observing how my parents dealt with arthritis—my dad had severe osteoarthritis and my mom had rheumatoid arthritis—I believed I could keep moving despite the condition, and handle my arthritis with dignity.
http://www.newsweek.com/2008/01/03/living-with-arthritis.html"You walk like a duck," my husband said as we walked across the Target parking lot. "That's right, but I'm walking," I replied in a determined, almost defiant voice.
The day was cool, windy, damp and cloudy. It was my first day out of the house after recovering from another rheumatoid arthritis (RA) flare-up, which had kept me indoors for a week and a half. Jim, my husband, had offered to use the handicap sticker, the one he had insisted I get six years ago. But I emphatically stated that I would walk the distance from the regular parking spots to the store. The walk would be good for me.
I've lived with the disease for 10 years now. At first there were sore feet and shoes that wouldn't fit and stiff, achy fingers that needed coaxing. I ignored them. After observing how my parents dealt with arthritis—my dad had severe osteoarthritis and my mom had rheumatoid arthritis—I believed I could keep moving despite the condition, and handle my arthritis with dignity.
http://www.newsweek.com/2008/01/03/living-with-arthritis.html"You walk like a duck," my husband said as we walked across the Target parking lot. "That's right, but I'm walking," I replied in a determined, almost defiant voice.
The day was cool, windy, damp and cloudy. It was my first day out of the house after recovering from another rheumatoid arthritis (RA) flare-up, which had kept me indoors for a week and a half. Jim, my husband, had offered to use the handicap sticker, the one he had insisted I get six years ago. But I emphatically stated that I would walk the distance from the regular parking spots to the store. The walk would be good for me.
I've lived with the disease for 10 years now. At first there were sore feet and shoes that wouldn't fit and stiff, achy fingers that needed coaxing. I ignored them. After observing how my parents dealt with arthritis—my dad had severe osteoarthritis and my mom had rheumatoid arthritis—I believed I could keep moving despite the condition, and handle my arthritis with dignity.
http://www.newsweek.com/2008/01/03/living-with-arthritis.html