It was summer and I was 12. Learning to tap dance, playing a new instrument, eating too many marshmallows and staying up all night telling ghost stories, I was having the best week at camp with my friends. You might say it was the time of my life.
But, a few days in I noticed I was struggling to keep up with the activities. My knee was really sore. Then my whole leg. I didn’t know why. Eventually, I collapsed on the floor in pain and was rushed to hospital. Over the next 12 months this happened four more times until I was diagnosed with Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis (JIA) at 13 years old.
I’d never heard of JIA before being diagnosed, why would I? At that age, arthritis just isn’t on your radar, so I was confused about why I had it. It turns out that my body’s immune system attacks its own cells and tissue, which causes swelling, inflammation and pain. This is what makes JIA different to other conditions like rheumatoid arthritis or osteoporosis, which more people are familiar with. I’m 30 now, but I’m still – and always will be – classed as having Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis.
After my diagnosis, I went through a pretty dark time. I was just a teenager, yet I was trapped in a body that felt much older. As the years went by, I missed out on so many of those simple, childhood joys like going to the park after school to play, which I couldn’t do as I had to go home and take painkillers to ease the pain that had developed from being at school all day. I remember feeling really angry with the world and I resented not being able to do things that other kids were doing.
Things only got worse as I got older and eventually I needed crutches just to get around. Luckily all of my friends were supportive and made such an effort to include me in everything – but sadly, my body so often didn’t allow it. It meant I missed out on coming-of-age moments like sneaking off from a sleepover to have a few WKDs in the park. I couldn’t drink alcohol with the medication I was on, so I got left behind as my peers experienced those rites of passage. Source : cosmopolitan.com