Dear Arthur,
I guess I should address you as such, for that was the name I’ve called you ever since you invaded my body many years ago. You should know that this letter has been 25 years in the making. For that was when I was told I had you. I was thirteen years old, a young girl just starting to find her place in this world.
With the news, came the relief that everything I had been feeling had a name; Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. I remember feeling shocked how could I have an old person’s disease? There must be some mistake.
Unfortunately, I soon discovered there was no mistake. You were here to stay and I had to learn to deal with your presence in my life. After the initial onset, where you first reared your ugly head and made me lose over two months of my eighth grade school year, I thought that this was no big deal. I certainly didn’t want anyone to know. After all I thought, “What was there to tell, so I take a many aspirins everyday and this doctor injects my fingers regularly?”
In high school you reappeared many times and there were many episodes of days with unexplained high fevers and fatigue followed by daily afternoon low-grade fevers. There was the constant smell of Ben-Gay, my perfume, I used to call it. There were the two years that my after-school activity consisted of my father putting me in traction for an hour everyday. I remember watching the soap opera General Hospital and just allowing the tears to roll down my face until they bounced off my cheeks. There were also the many years of going to the library when all the other girls went to P.E. classes. Here I discovered a world that had a profound effect on me. I submerged myself in words and was fascinated by the profound power they had over me. In the literature, I discovered new worlds, befriended famous literary characters, and lived a wide variety of emotions vicariously through these new friends. In addition, I learned the Dewey Decimal System and to this day still feel most comfortable when surrounded by books. Thanks to you, I found my profession and calling in life.
During my college years, I felt the anti-inflammatory medicine I was taking daily must have sent you on a trip somewhere. You tended to pop up only once in a while and I was so glad to be rid of you, even only for a while. However, you always managed to make a repeat visit after a night of dancing, after a long walk, or an all-day shopping spree. You always reminded me that you were still around especially when I tried to take notes for my lecture courses and my fingers would remain in the same position for a while. Nonetheless, while you continued to peek in and out of my daily young adult life, I managed to graduate, get married, and continue to “live” a normal life.
There are so many things I want to tell you, Arthur. There are so many raw emotions that lie just beneath the surface of my being. Sometimes I’ll hear a song, or watch a movie, or read a poem and I’ll cry uncontrollably. Many times these tears are only a residue of what you leave behind. I must say I really detest you…hate you…and wish I never met you. But more than anything, I resent you for all that you’ve taken away from me. You’ve decided that I can only experience the magic of motherhood once, for a second try would be disastrous. Throughout the years, you have destroyed my hips, my right shoulder, and both jaws.
Well, Arthur, I am writing to tell you that I will not allow you to take anything more from me. I will fight you till the end. I will continue to live my life as if you were not here. You will no longer watch the people that I love suffer because they feel powerless at your hands. You will not have such control over my family and me. After all you are only powerful when we allow you to overcome us. That will not happen. I will live a normal life in spite of you. I will continue to pass the many lessons of living that you have taught me to all whom I meet, especially the children you try to invade. After all I am a better person because of you. You have given me tremendous inner strength and fortitude. You have provided me with the empathy to understand a stranger’s pain and suffering. You have given me the gift of appreciating every dance, every long walk, and every adventurous event in which I can actively participate in and enjoy. I have learned to live around my “bad days” and cherish my good ones. The most important lesson you’ve taught me is to never ever take anything for granted. I have learned so much from you and yet, I realize there are many lessons in my future. But today I am alive and I will “live” life to the fullest, even if you continue to lurk around.
So long for now,
Aimee
2 comments:
Querida AIMEE, te escibo es espanol porque se que tu lo entiendes.siento un gran admiracion por ti , porque se cuanto has sufrido y lo valiente que eres, has tratado de vivir una vida con mucha fortaleza, soriendo cuando sentias deseos de llorar, haciendo chistes para que no dieran cuenta de tu dolor, dando de ti todo lo hermoso que hay en tu corazon.
Siempre pendiente de los demas, tatando de aliviar las penas y los dolores de otros con una hermosa sonrisa y dulces palabras. Estamos muy felices de que seas nuestra hija y del gran ser humano que eres. Dios te da la fortaleza porque lo tienes en tu corazon.
Te amo, Mami
Hi Aimee,
Reading your comments have given me renewed hope. To make a long story short, four years ago at the age of fifty "Uncle Arthur" as I have referred to it, came to visit.
My husband had a successful career in Real Estate in Florida. I was able to leave my career. It was a big challenge and a life long dream to have a B&B. so almost two years ago we purchased one in North Carolina. Between the Real Estate bust and surgery's everything began to spiral downward, financially and physically. We are now living in Griffin Georgia in a family home and my husband has found a job. My dilemna is do I go through the arduous task of filing for disability or are there employers who will hire someone with Rhuematoid Arthritis and Fybromyalgia.
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