I just had to share these with you.

Would you let an atheist care for you pet? Shouldn’t you instead try to witness to these people?

I don’t think they were thinking about the lyrics when they wrote this song. It kind of makes Jesus sound like a pervert.

Is chronic illness taboo among your friends and family?

Methotrexate appears safe for long term use!

And a study shows that people with arthritis are twice as likely to have depression.

Here’s a few tips to help you save on laundry costs.

What’s your favorite Bible verse?

And last, but certainly not least The Government Can.

Love,
A Young Wife

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***UPDATE***
I went to the pharmacy to ask them how much Celebrex would cost. The pharmacist was on the computer and said, “We show David has an allergy to Sulfa drugs.”

So, it’s a good thing David didn’t take the samples right away. I’m calling the rheumatologist in the morning to see if there’s a different NSAID he wants David to try. Oh, and Celebrex would cost $223 a month with our insurance, so he wouldn’t have been taking it anyway.

We saw the new rheumatologist today. He was great! He asked lots of questions, and answered lots of our questions. Here’s the visit in a nutshell.

1. The rheumatologist gave David two weeks worth of Celebrex samples. David has been taking Naproxen, an anti-inflammatory drug, but he hasn’t been taking it as often as he should. David is to take the Celebrex exactly as prescribed and see if it relieves some of the joint pain. He wrote us a script for Celebrex, and I’m heading out the door to take it to the pharmacy to ask if our insurance covers Celebrex.

2. He gave David a script for muscle relaxers, and it’s a generic, so we know insurance will cover it. He told David to take one at bed time on the days when his back muscles are spasming.

3. David has arthritis/pain in every joint in his body except his shoulders. Methotrexate and Plaquenil do not help David’s back, where the worst pain is. Remember, David stopped taking those a few weeks ago? David and the doctor discussed how Methotrexate and Plaquenil did help David’s knees, hands, wrists, elbows, etc. feel better, but not enough that he wanted to take the Methotrexate which is so hard on your liver and immune system. The doctor said he understood, and suggested that David start taking the Plaquenil again. It does not require the blood test every eight weeks and it’s a much gentler drug, but it should continue to help with the pain in his limbs.

4. The new rheumatologist said that Humira will be the long term solution, but hopefully he can find a way to make David’s life more bearable until David has different health insurance that covers TNF inhibitors.

5. The only negative thing about the visit was that this rheumatologist agreed with the old one about a weekend flare up. He said don’t waste your time and money going to a hospital or after care. Just wait it out and see me on Monday. This is absolutely infuriating! I will not let David have another weekend from H***. I will find someone to give him something or do something for him on the weekend if he’s ever flared up that bad again. It’s ridiculous for him to be in agony for days. I don’t care what the rheumatologists say.

So, all in all, we’re very happy with the new rheumatologist and his staff. We were in and out in an hour, as opposed to four or five. Thank you all so much for your prayers.

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We have a new rheumy! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Thank you, Jesus!

I will NEVER have to set foot in David’s old rheumatologist’s office ever again! No more four hour waits. No more unanswered questions. No more nasty nurses.

David has an appointment next week. We’ll see how we like the new rheumy. Honestly, he could be a pretty lousy doctor and still be better than the old one.

During David’s first visit with his old rheumatologist (I love saying that: his OLD rheumatologist!), the doctor explained that while David was taking Methotrexate we would be unable to have children. Well, at least, that’s a nice way of saying it. His exact words were, “If you want to get your wife pregnant, you’ll have to stop taking Methotrexate.” Pretty rough way of phrasing it, especially since I was sitting next to David.

After the weekend from H***, I asked the rheumy what we should do the next time David flared up over the weekend because I didn’t think he should have to suffer for three days. The rheumatologist said, “Just see me on Monday. The emergency rooms don’t know what to do for something like this.”

Yup, that’s right. He was telling us, “Suffer for three days. I don’t care that you can’t walk or sit up or that you’re in agony. No one can help you but me. I’m in D Magazine every year. I am a god.”

And his nurses! Oh, his nurses. They were the worst nurses I’ve ever dealt with. One of them lied to me. I couldn’t even leave them a message after eleven o’clock in the morning.

I cannot wait to meet the new rheumatologist and his nurses. Let’s celebrate! Hand me another Diet Coke!

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There’s not much to tell about David’s psoriatic arthritis right now. We’re just playing the waiting game. Waiting for the house to sell. Waiting for better health insurance to cover the Humira David needs. Waiting to see if we have to move to Arizona for the climate. Waiting to see what happens since David hasn’t taking his Methotrexate and Plaquenil in a month. Waiting to see if the exercise program David is on helps. Waiting is no fun.

Psalm 5:3 In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.

I called the rheumatologist’s office today to tell them we want to switch to one of his associates. Now we just have to wait and see what happens there!

Psalm 33:20 We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.

The living arrangements are what’s really bothering me. (Well, that and the fact that my husband is in extreme pain all the time!) We need to buy a few things for the house, like a bedspread, but I don’t want to buy anything right now. The less I have to pack and move, the better.

Plus, our house is “staged”. It’s like living in a model home. It looks nice, but it’s not functional. We can’t eat in our dining room because it’s set with the good crystal and china. We don’t have a place to put a drink in the living room if we’re watching something. We’re reluctant to have people over because we get calls all the time that there’s going to be a showing in thirty minutes. How embaressing would that be? Thanks for coming, now we need to leave.

Not having a plan for what happens when we sell this house is driving my obsessive compulsive self crazy. We may have to move in with our parents for a bit. We may be moving out to Tucson. We might be buying a one story house nearby. Only the good Lord knows.

I know God is in control. I know he is sovereign. Whatever his will for us is, I’m sure it will be for his glory. It’s just waiting on his will that’s driving me crazy!

Psalm 27:14 Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.

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Uh, so David just kind of decided to stop taking his methotrexate. He’s only been getting worse, and I was the one who brought it up in the first place, but um…I thought he’d want to talk to his rheumatologist first. He’s still taking his Plaquenil and all his other meds. I guess we’ll see what the new rheumy has to say about this whenever we see him. I mean, if David isn’t taking the Methotrexate, he doesn’t have to go in every eight weeks. The only reason he goes in so often is so they can do blood work to make sure his liver is okay. Methotrexate takes a few months to get out of your system, and by the time it’s out of David’s body, the weather will be changing and he’ll be feeling worse anyway, so it’s going to be really hard to tell if the Methotrexate was doing anything.

Oh! Guess what? David gave blood on Saturday. I couldn’t believe they wanted his blood after he gave them the list of all his medications! Maybe they think recipients could use some of the meds he’s on.

Ugh. I am so very ready for David to be healthy and pain free! I want us to be able to do normal things like go to concerts. I want to be able to take a vacation and not have to worry about how long we’ll be standing in line or whether or not the room we’re staying in has a bath tub for David to soak in.  And I hate having to leave in the middle of church or parties because of David’s flare ups. And like I keep telling David, his turn is coming. Someday, when I’m pregnant, he’s coming to every single one of my appointments.

On a more positive note, my mother and I were talking the other day and she made a very good point. David’s pain got really bad and he was diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis right around the time he became a deacon at our church. My mother said that perhaps there was some spiritual warfare going on.

Love,

A Young Wife

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In February of 2008, David went for a physical. He had been having back problems since high school, and the doctors always prescribed muscle relaxers and back stretches. He’d started having aches and pains in his hands. He told the doctor about his grandfather’s rheumatoid arthritis and asked him to x-ray his back.

The doctor, praise God, listened to David. The x-ray showed a slight curve in David’s spine that hadn’t been there a few years before. The doctor also did some blood work which showed David had high levels of inflammation. Then he referred David to a rheumatologist.

David’s first appointment with the rheumatologist was at five o’clock in the morning. It took at least three hours. The rheumatologist interviewed us, asking David all sorts of questions. I was really glad I was there, first of all because David didn’t remember all of his family’s medical history. (Mother and father-in-law, I really do pay attention when you tell me about your siblings!) And second, because I had no idea that David had pain in his knees, elbows, wrists and hips. I couldn’t believe he’d never told me.

The rheumatologist then did a physical exam. He moved every joint, asking each time, “Does this hurt?” He sent David for x-rays. They x-rayed every joint in David’s body. I don’t even know that’s healthy. Then the rheumatologist came back with a diagnosis: Psoriatic Arthritis. He sent David for a bone scan. At that point David was glowing in the dark.

The rheumatologist said there was negligible damage to David’s joints, and the tiny curve in David’s spine wasn’t even worth trying to correct. It was Psoriatic Arthritis, and they’d caught it early. The rheumatologist thought that David should start taking Methotrexate, among other medications. He said that David’s arthritis would go into remission. He didn’t know if it would take a week, a month or a year, but he’d go into remission. He’d feel fine.

I remember calling David’s parents in the car afterwards while we drove home. They were much more upset than I was. I thought it was no big deal. We had a diagnosis. We had a plan. They were going to make David better. Everything was going to be fine.

Over the next year, David’s dosage of Methotrexate increased several times. The rheumatologist also gave David injections of Methotrexate directly in his back. David took anti-inflammatory drugs and pain killers and stomach medicine and folic acid to counteract all side effects.

Still, David wasn’t getting better. Things weren’t okay.

We continue to wait for David’s arthritis to go into remission. The rheumatologist now wants David to take Humira, but at $1,500 a month with insurance, there’s no way we can afford it, but we make too much money to qualify for assistance.

We’re still hoping and praying. We’ve learned a lot over the past year. We’ve done research on arthritis and gotten quite an education. I’ve personally learned a lot since that early morning visit with the rheumatologist. I’ve become far more understanding and careful regarding David and his arthritis. I’ve learned to ask for and accept help when I need it.

I’ve seen breast cancer survivors get pink boxing gloves. I don’t know what color represents arthritis (or care giving), but I’m ready to be a survivor. I’m ready for our boxing gloves.

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Back in January, the weekend of my birthday, David experienced his worst flare up ever. He came home early from work and crawled to the couch. He couldn’t stand up straight.

I got him into the car that afternoon and took him to get a massage. I walked him inside the building by standing in front of him, letting him put most of his weight on my shoulders. Keep in mind, I’m 5′ 2”, he’s 6′ 3”. After the massage he could stand up straight, but I still walked in front of him, bearing a good chunk of his weight. The therapist told me to get him a cane.

We had breakfast Saturday morning with our family for my birthday. I told David we needed to call it off, but he said, “No, I’m fine. It’s your birthday.” I should have just called it off myself.

I had to dress him. I had to get him in the car. Once we got there, I had to get him out and into the restaurant. It was miserable. On our way home, I stopped and got him a cane.

That afternoon I called our pastor to let him know we wouldn’t be able to teach our Sunday School class the next day. I couldn’t leave David alone. I had to help him get to the bathroom, get in and out of the bathtub. He was taking hot baths with epsom salts four or five times a day, and I had to be there to make sure he didn’t slip getting in and out.

On Monday we got in to see the rheumatologist. I remember thinking “How the heck am I going to get David from the car in a parking garage all the way into the hospital building? And then, we have to take the elevator to the second floor and walk down a hallway to the doctor’s office?” I said many, many prayers on that half hour car ride.

The doctor gave David and injection in his back. I didn’t say all the things I wanted to like, “What are we paying you for? Why can’t you do your job and help my husband get better instead of worse?” I just asked him if he thought the Methotrexate David had been taking for a year was helping.

Do you know what the doctor said to me? “Methotrexate doesn’t work on the back. David should try taking Humira, but you’ll have to check with your insurance company to see how much it will cost you.”

Um…excuse me? You’ve been treating David for a year, and all he ever complains about is his back. How many Methotrexate injections have you given him in his back? And now, you’re telling me it doesn’t work on the back?! I was so angry.

I spoke with our pharmacist about Humira, and she too felt it would help David’s back. I called our insurance company and found out it would cost $1,500 a month for David to take Humira. That’s our house payment! I checked with the drug manufacturer about getting assistance, and guess what? We make too much money.

Monday afternoon, my mother-in-law brought us groceries. She even brought things like paper towels and David’s favorite toothpaste. We were almost out. How did she know? It was such a huge help.

Even Tuesday when I felt like I could leave David alone, I was so exhausted I didn’t want to go anywhere. I had a very dear friend drop by one evening that week to bring us soup. It meant a lot to me. I was so drained. It was nice not having to cook that evening.

I called the rheumatologist’s nurse to ask what we should do the next time David had a flare up over the weekend, and she said to take him to the hospital. That was it. Not which hospital. Not what they should do for him. I’ve been told that most hospitals won’t treat someone like David unless the specialist has standing orders or comes by himself to administer the injections. I really don’t like the rheumatologist’s staff.

The weekend was a turning point for us. We had to let everyone know just how bad the arthritis had become. Our family saw how bad David was when they brought us food. It solidified our need to get a second opinion.

Before the weekend from h***, I had almost given up Diet Coke. I was down to one a day. Now, I’m back to drinking tons of Diet Coke. We also decided to try any and all possible treatments. David is currently seeing a chiropractor and we’ll probably try acupuncture next.

And, that weekend we decided we had to sell our house. It was a tough decision. It’s our dream house. We’ve only had it for a year. However, a two story house just isn’t going to work for us, and we need to be closer to our parents and church family. This is a really lousy time to be selling a house, but we’re trusting in God to take care of us.

If David has another severe flare up, I’ve already warned my parents and in-laws that we’ll be moving in with one of them! I’ll just put our clothes and the dog in the car, and tell the realtor to sell the house when she can.

I’m so blessed to have family that I can say that to.

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