Typically, I don't go very deep on this blog. I like to chronicle a few things, for the sake of my sons. One day, they will treasure this blog and when that day comes, I hope they also learn a little bit of stuff that will touch their hearts. Most of you don't know this about me, because I keep most private things to myself, but I had arthritis as a child. I had it fairly badly, and I had to sit most of my childhood days on the bleachers. I was in and out of doctors' offices and was admitted to the hospital several times. To my knowledge, they never did determine how I contracted it, but they theorized it may have come from a virus. They were also able to diagnose (I have no idea how) that I would most likely outgrow it when I reached my teens. In my mid teens, I started noticing that I could walk more easily. It came on gradually, but I did notice, nonetheless.
I remember my second grade teacher sent a note home for my mom and wanted to know why I was limping. That's when the fun started. I went to the doctor and he would contort my body this way and that way looking for range of motion. I remember crying my eyes out from how painful it was. He sent us to Pittsburgh for more advanced medical care and I stayed in the hospital for about a week. My roommate taught me how to play 500 Rum and we would play all day, since I was not allowed out of bed. I can remember teams of interns poking on me, getting EKG's and having many tests run. The wheelchair was great fun, though, and was one of my best memories. I learned to not dread the blood tests, the x-rays and the mercury thermometer.
When I returned home, I really wasn't told much, but I would listen to my mom tell her sisters that I had arthritis. My mom was a very empathetic person, and I could tell that she was very worried for me. It was at that point that I decided I would try to hide my pain as much as I could and I would lie to the doctors and act as if everything were okay. I had seen enough in my life from my eleven siblings, and I did not want to be another person making my mom upset. I was only eight years old, so I was not exactly a good actor, but I did decide that I would act as normally as I could. I remember practicing trying to walk without limping, but it hurt so badly, I would often fail. Adults were always asking me why I was walking so funny, and I would shrug them off. I so wanted to be invisible. All of my major joints were affected and I can especially remember that my shoulders, elbows and hips hurt the most, and especially my knees.
In the winter, it seemed to be at its worst. I can remember many snowy mornings, my mom would tiptoe into my room and tell me to stay in bed. She would say I could have the "blue flu" and we would bake cookies and watch Julia Child. I will never forget how soft her voice was when she would come to me in the morning.
Many simple tasks were very challenging for me. I used to hate when my teacher would gather the class to sit on the floor and read stories. Getting on the floor was the worst, and my bones were simply not able to sit "Indian style". I wanted to blend in, not stick out in the crowd. I always made sure I would sit next to a desk so I could use the desk to lift myself up from the floor. I always felt like I was looking around, trying to see if anyone saw how much trouble I was having. If no one was watching, I would feel victorious. Raising my arms to put on a shirt was also on my "worst" list. I made sure I never let anyone see me, especially my mom, putting on a shirt. I am certain it looked very strange, because my arms just could not lift very high. As I recall, those were the two most painful things that I had to deal with, but walking up and down stairs was also quite painful. I would come down slowly so my mom couldn't hear my wincing.
Even though I hated being singled out on the bleachers, I look back on ALL of these things and I am thankful. In fact, I am glad I had arthritis. It taught me so many things, and all of them have proven to make me a much more empathetic person as an adult. I don't dare to think that had I not had arthritis, I might not be as sensitive to others' pains. I am also thankful that I was unable to run like a normal child and do all the things that kids do, because when I was raising my young sons, I would always get out there with them and play. I would get on the slides, swings and climb trees any chance I could. In many ways, I felt like I was being a child along my own children. I thoroughly enjoyed going to the park and climbing all of the great play structures, often for the first time in my life.
When I look back on all of this, I can honestly say, "Thank you, Lord. Thank you for teaching me that suffering for a time is nothing compared to how so many people suffer their whole life. You cured me and you made me even better by making my heart softened. You taught me to get out there any play with my sons and enjoy them. And I also thank you for showing me that physical suffering is nothing compared to spiritual suffering."
What I want most for my sons to learn from this is simple: we all have choices to make. Even in adversity, you can choose joy. God has placed challenges in our lives for a purpose:
"And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. 3 Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. " Romans 5:2-4
God bless each of you in your afflictions, and may He give you the peace that surpasses all understanding.
