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Donna's Story

Luyenne@aol.com 

My name is Donna, and my story is one of Hope

Eleven years ago, I awoke with a painful little finger. "OH," I said to 
myself, this must be the way arthritis feels. Guess I better get some Ben-gay.

By the end of the day, my feet and ankles were swollen and painful and at 
the end of the week I was using a cane. My primary physician started me on a 
prednisone pack and even with that, at the end of the second week I was in a wheel chair. I was fortunate enough to have a Rheumatologist appointment at the beginning of the third week and he immediately hospitalized me. My RA 
factor was negative so he wasn't too certain of the diagnoses. At the end of 
that third week, I had deteriorated to the point that I was completely helpless. I was unable to feed myself or do any of the things we take for granted. How demoralizing that is, but the pain was so intense, I really didn't care

Finally at the end of the third week, still in the hospital, my right thumb 
became a typically arthritic one, and the diagnoses were finally made. I had 
RA. After two successive days of intense intravenous solumedrol treatments, I 
was able to walk again with the aid of a walker and was discharged.

My RD started me on DMARDS immediately and we ran the gamut of what was 
available back then. The two I did not try were gold and mtx. The cocktail I 
finally settled with was Plaquenil, Prednisone, and Voltaren. I am down to 5 
mgms of prednisone at this time.

For the next six years I was never without pain. My husband did everything 
for me. There was little I could do for myself. I remember telling him I 
would do anything to be free of pain for just five minutes. One morning I 
did awaken without pain for all of two minutes, and yes I timed it. I thought 
I was in heaven. Could this be the start of something big? Actually it was.

Six years after the onset I started being able to do simple things, like 
stand up in the kitchen long enough to cook a meal, drive a car, and unload a 
dishwasher. This took several months, but I was constantly showing 
improvement. The meds had kicked in! I felt so empowered!

I know it was not only the meds but also God's plan that I would start to 
become more self-sufficient. Five months after my beginning recovery, my 
husband had a fatal heart attack and I was left to handle things on my own.

The last five years have had their ups and downs of course. Five stress 
fractures due to osteoporosis and several bouts of COPD but all in all, I 
feel very fortunate.

Today I have only minor complaints and I am able to handle them well. I 
consider myself in remission. Remember I said this was a story of hope? You 
see how far I have come, and "my hope" is for all of you to be able to tell 
me that your "hope" comes true. You see it is possible, don't give up.