Fuck Arthritis

via Unsplash

Lately, I’ve been struggling.

There. I said it.

I had so many plans and hopes for this new year—so many things I wanted to do. Yet these past couple weeks, I’ve been mostly immobilized.

I’ve been bedridden before. I’ve spent entire winters doped up on painkillers, binge-watching whatever from the relative comfort of my bed. But this winter was supposed to be different. I’d started Plaquenil and Prednisone, and they were helping. Then they weren’t—or at least, not as much.

It started off slowly. The joints in my neck and lower back hurt, but the pain was tolerable. As a whole, I was feeling better; I could actually use my hands again. Then the joint in my neck swelled to two or three times its normal size, and my back joined the screaming chorus.

At first, I thought it was my new pillows. I’d bought a couple king-size pillows and they’re super thick. I figured I’d tweaked my neck while trying to sleep on them. I bought a less thick pillow and the pain immediately improved. Until it got worse again.

So then I thought it might be my work setup. For the past few months, I’ve been working from my couch. Not the most ergonomic setup—especially since I tend to lean into my computer when I really get into whatever it is I’m working on. I became more mindful of my body while working, keeping my neck and back more straight while on the couch. Mike joked that we should duct-tape my head to the couch to keep me from leaning forward and putting strain on that joint.

I also cleaned up my office a bit and returned to working at my desk. It’d become a bit of a dumping ground these past few months—getting more and more cluttered as I felt worse and worse. Even still, with a proper desk and chair, I can’t sit at the computer for very long. If I’m lucky, I’ll make it 40 minutes.

The only time my neck and back aren’t screaming is if I’m reclined on the couch with full blast heat on them—or flat on the floor on my yoga mat. Alternating heat and ice was helping, but the other day I iced my neck for no more than 20 minutes and it made it worse. A lot worse.

Last Thursday, I saw the APRN at my GP’s office. I had to go in for a refill anyway, and figured I’d have her look at my neck—which was my biggest concern, considering the joint is so swollen. I told her what I’d been doing: TENs machine, Advil, rest, ice, heat, Tramadol (as well as my Plaquenil and Prednisone). She said the joint was definitely swollen. I explained that the Advil was helping a little, taking it down by a notch, and told her I’d been taking two Advil three times a day. I asked her if I could take more and, if so, how much would be safe to take in a given day.

“Don’t take too much, or it’ll cause an ulcer.”

“Oh, of course! But how much can I safely take?”

“Just don’t take too much.”

I wondered whether I’d accidentally walked into an episode of Punk’d. “Okay, well, is there anything else I can do? It’s really painful.”

“The Prednisone should help it.”

“Well… I’ve been on it for a month, and this is a new problem.”

She mentioned Prednisone again, completely brushing me off.

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, if my husband hadn’t recently been in to see her about his swollen knee. She prescribed him a relatively new NSAID: ibuprofen 800, which also has an antacid in it to lower the risk of ulcers. I don’t think she does it on purpose, but she doesn’t listen to me. There’s definitely a gender bias when it comes to patients, and until now I’d never really dealt with it so blatantly. When she sees Mike, she’s on her game, helping him with all of her expertise. When she sees me, she either laughs me  off or ignores me completely.

That’s not even what I’m really angry about, though.

Every day, I fall further and further behind on my production schedule. I try to do simple things around the house—like cleaning my bathroom—and I pay for it for days. For a brief window, I got a glimpse of what it’d be like to live with low pain. (On one particular Sunday, it went down to a 5/10!) I started to feel hopeful that I’d get my life back. I know there’s no cure, that I’ll never be pain-free again, but every time I turn around, I feel like I’m losing yet one more thing.

I haven’t worked a normal job in years.

I haven’t been able to write in months.

I’m just really tired of this disease taking from me, and I still don’t even really know its damned name.

And, if I’m being really honest, I’m a little scared.

My pain has changed; now when any of my joints creak, there’s pain where there wasn’t before, and the pain in my neck and lower back is a burning pain that creeps up and down my spine like fire. Every time my disease changes, we find another piece to the puzzle. My doctors have said so many times that something autoimmune is definitely brewing, and I’ve joked that if this is “just” brewing, I don’t wanna know what full force feels like.

So I wonder: Is this full force? Am I about to get the answers I’ve been wanting? And, if so, will I like those answers?


I have a really hard time asking for help, but I’ve got electricity/heat, student loans, and other bills creeping up on me. If you’d like to help, you can buy my books, throw me a tip on PayPal, or donate to my GoFundMe. If you can’t help financially, a comment offering virtual hugs would really lift my spirits. I appreciate your support, in whatever form. 💜

Published by

Elizabeth Barone

Elizabeth Barone is an American novelist who writes contemporary romance and suspense starring strong belles who chose a different path. Her debut novel Sade on the Wall was a quarterfinalist in the 2012 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. She is the author of the South of Forever series and several other books. When not writing, Elizabeth is very busy getting her latest fix of Yankee Candle, spicy Doritos chips, or whatever TV show she’s currently binging. Elizabeth lives in northwestern Connecticut with her husband, a feisty little cat, and too many books.

2 thoughts on “Fuck Arthritis”

  1. Elizabeth, I hope you find the time to see that somehow and for some reason you are here on this earth.Perservere as you are and know you make a difference in the world by being you.Yes being you with all your autoimmunity and loveliness as well!I stumbled across your website by being soooo frustrated and waking up crippled and typed in ……..fuck arthritis………….and landed on your page.It actually cheered me up cracking up laughing at 5 a.m. in the morning.Please keep up the good work,never give up and fight everything that comes your way.

    1. Aw, thanks. I’m so glad I could make you laugh. Truly—fuck arthritis! I’m actually doing a lot better, especially now that this horrible winter is over. I hope you’re doing well. Chronic pain is so frustrating. Take care!

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