I never thought it strange that every day after I got home from junior high school I would wind up sitting on my bed with heating pads wrapped around my knees.
When you walked into my bedroom, it didn't smell like lavender, scented candles or my favorite air freshener, but the wintergreen liniment on my knees under those heating pads.
I'd do homework and practice my flute or piccolo sitting in the middle of my bed.
Sometimes I'd go to school with both knees wrapped in Ace Bandages.
Puberty hit and I had the same highs and lows as all my friends. My older brothers called me "Niagara," because I cried all the time.
My chores at home were fairly light. I had to do the breakfast dishes every morning and on Saturday mornings help my mom clean the house and change the sheets. I didn't mind, but after washing the dishes I'd get the some strange pain across my lower back that I also got while changing bed sheets.
High School wasn't much different from junior high but there were two stories in my high school and that meant stairs. I came to hate those. And I was in marching band, so those ace bandages were just the thing under uniform trousers and jeans.
I started getting strep throat. First it was twice a year, then three times a year and by my senior year I was getting it again as soon as the antibiotics from the last bout wore off.
All this time I was getting cavities. No matter how I brushed, flossed and polished my teeth, I always needed fillings.
I had trouble going to sleep. I could get to the very first stage of sleep, sort of dozing, but rarely got the restful kind. I thought that too was just part of growing up.
I knew I had a little more wrong with me than my three brothers or any of my friends, but I blew if off.
It was my father who put all the puzzle pieces together and sent me to a rheumatologist.
It was a sunny September morning in 1974 when I walked into Dr. Payne's office (no kidding, his name was Dr. Payne) and the tests started. I was measured all kinds of ways, blood and X-Rays were taken. I left for lunch and came back that afternoon for more tests and a lot of paper work.
About 3:30 p.m., I walked into Dr. Payne's office and sat down. He had a manila folder in front of him with my name on it.
He wasted no time.
"You cry all the time. You are sick all time. Your friends and maybe some members of your family think you are a hypochondriac. You are not. You are sick."
Every single thing he said was true. It was like he read my mind.
"Your disease has a name and we can treat it."
He explained that "Rheumatoid Spondylitis, Female Variant, Strep Sensitive," was a form of rheumatoid arthritis. There was no cure for it but he could give me several prescription drugs that would help me feel better.
He took time to talk to me about what was going on in my body. He showed me the X-Rays of my lower back where a few shadows were what was causing that funny twinge in my back.
He gave me a weak-strength antibiotic to keep strep throat and any other disease at bay.
He gave me some tablet to take that would help me get into a deeper sleep.
It all helped. No more strep throat and interestingly enough, no more cavities.
I discovered the sleeping tablets were muscle relaxers and I had to take them four hours before I needed to sleep.
Those drugs got me through college.
As an ironic added bonus, my diagnosis qualified me for help with college tuition and fees, so my last two years of college were free.
The name of my disease changed over the years as researchers make breakthroughs.
My hypochondria is Fibromyalgia. I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome which causes sleep disorders and terrible tiredness. My blood is causing me all kinds of problems. Sometimes I test positive for Lupus. When I am really sick I get very close to having a slow developing but easily treatable form of leukemia.
My back is where the real problem is. While my knees and hips still hurt, especially when the weather changes, my back and neck vertebrae are a wreck. I have back braces that help with pain and stability and all kinds of pillows for my neck.
I take a few more pills now than I did in 1974 and I don't get around nearly as well, but I am grateful my disease was caught so early I have never had any surgery or ever spent the night in a hospital.
Right now I am sitting in the middle of my king-size Sleep Number bed writing this on a tablet complete with a click-on keyboard that I love.
All that is missing is the smell of wintergreen liniment..
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