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March 2001

Tuesday, March 06, 2001

It’s Tuesday March 6, 2001. 1:13 PM. For the second day in a row it has snowed, and for the second day in a row school has been cancelled. Massachusetts is actually in a ‘state of emergency’, even though it’s a Commonwealth. But who cares about those little details? Only bitter, arthritic New Yorkers.

The whole world went out to play yesterday. Snowball in hand, shovels nearby. Like poor little Timmy I sat and watched through my window. Sure I could have gone out and played around a little, but every time – without fail – it snows and I go out to play, I come back hurt because I overdid it. So the last few storms I decided it would be better to not get involved so that I can walk tomorrow. I felt badly until I turned on the TV and saw there was a “Silver Spoons” marathon, which quickly made me stop feeling sorry for myself. Instead I felt sorry for Ricky Schroeder who always had everything he could ask for except happiness.

So this, the second snow-day in a row, and I am left to do nothing but study for an economics final on Friday, perhaps catch up on some old emails that I’ve been meaning to get through, and maybe some sleep. I always get unmotivated on days when there is 20” of snow and blizzard-like conditions because I feel like I’m in suspended animation. Maybe I’ll go check the Creaky Board and see what’s happening.

Tuesday, March 15, 2001

When you have arthritis, you’re working a full-time job AND going to college, chances are you don’t have a whole lot of time to kick back and relax. I realized this fact last week when I finally got a chance to do just that. My parents – realizing that their exclusive time with me (without, say, a wife) is limited – decided to take me and my younger brother Justin on vacation. So down to Florida we went for a little Caribbean cruise. Since we both have girlfriends, we weren’t on the lookout for ‘girl-friends’. Instead the two of us made a conscious effort to do nothing but relax together.

In retrospect, I did all of the things I wasn’t supposed to do. For starters, I laid out in the sun every day. When you take Azulphadine, in big letters on the bottle it says “no prolonged sun exposure”. I never bothered to ask why. I was tired of being transparent, and I needed the Vitamin E from the sun. So I got it.

Then I stayed up late. I went to bed early by some standards, but those are the people who wake up and exercise. Two days of the week I saw the sun rise on my way to bed. Slept a couple hours, and was outside by lunch time. My body was beyond achy at that point. In fact, I found time for an extra dose of medicine (if I needed it) around midnight – 1 A.M. But of course I didn’t take anything. I’m good like that.

Then there’s the little secret that down there, the drinking age is 18. Plus I look 22. Now I went a whole year (both semesters) not drinking one single thing. I didn’t want that to screw me up, plus they thought I had that ulcer a couple months ago, yada yada yada. Going to the hospital for this or that; whatever. My philosophy for the week was ‘be smart, be responsible, and don’t worry, you’re not driving’. So long story short, well, I had fun. But it wasn’t until half way into the week that I called home to check my messages and there was a call from my doctors office. They got the lab reports from my blood test back a week before I had left. Apparently my liver enzymes were high. This is caused by the medicine that I take. Kim’s message said DON’T DRINK THIS WEEK (or ever, for that matter, but especially not this week). I immediately called her, had a chat with her. She made it clear that while it probably wasn’t a DEFCON 1 s

Friday, March 19, 2001

It's Monday, March 19 at 6:52 PM. I write this on the plane ride out to Arizona. That's right: Spring Break. I've been working so hard since the holidays that I promised myself I'd take a trip to celebrate this college student right of passage, spring break. Cancun? Too much drinking. Florida? Too much traffic. California? Not enough electricity. So that leaves Nova Scotia, Canada and Tucson Arizona. OK, so Tucson is the most practical - home to the University of Arizona where the Arthritis Research Center resides. Oh, and my girlfriend Shayne goes there too. What a coincidence. It's like someone planned it that way. I look forward to spending the week with Shayne and seeing what it's like to go to a school with 90+degree weather, a decent football team, and matching school colors. Frankly I just can't wait. I look forward to meeting people with arthritis out here, as well as spending time with Shayne.

I have just been informed that we are passing 31,000 feet above Lancaster, PA. Shout out to all the Amish out there checking the Creaky Chronicles. I love you all. I feel your arthritic pain.

In other news, got word from a superstar named Arlene who works for the Arthritis Foundation in N.Y. (Hudson Valley Branch). She told me that I am the newest (and youngest) recruit for her elite force of advisory board members. I am excited about that because it gives me the opportunity to finally work with the great people of her team, and help them with all the good work they are constantly do.

The captain has just turned off the 'fasten seatbelt' sign, which is my sign to stop working, stiffen up to the three pillows supporting my back, and try to maneuver myself into a comfortable position for a nap.

In between shifting around positions, I look outside on such a clear night and put my face as close to the window as anotomically possible. I look down on Baltimore, Washington D.C., Memphis, Little rock, and eventually Dallas where I'll make my change of planes. I think to myself that somewhere down there is someone in pain, someone else who is stiff and achy, and still someone else who just might read this tomorrow morning.

Monday, March 25, 2001

Well I'm back safe and sound from my trip - happy and sad at the same time. I'm happy that I got a chance to see Shayne - go to classes with her, hang out with her friends, enjoy Arizona's landscape. But I'm sad that it's all over, entirely too quickly, and I didn't get to do half of the things I wanted to. My original intent was to go and meet with the Arthritis Foundation & Research Center (because after all, they're some of the sweetest people) as well as tour the Tucson Foothills. Neither happened and it seemed like I woke up on the airplane already headed back east without doing anything I wanted. But at the same time having done so many wonderful things.

Which makes for an excellent reason to go back again, I suppose. I'm ready to book the trip! The surrounding and climate really did a number (in a good way) on my body. Everytime someone says "dry heat is best" they really know what they're talking about. As my condition worsens over the months and years, I begin to ponder the thought of living out there...sure beats the hell out of the cold, wet and nasty weather of the north east. At least this winter it did.

Sunday night at 10 p.m. An entire weeks worth of work that I never got around to doing. How typical a situation this is...how typical.

When will I learn?

Thursday, March 29, 2001

It seems like I’m always writing these journal entries on an airplane. This is true for the past couple of weeks, but after today I’ll be back in the habit of talking to myself at 3 a.m. during crummy nights before an exam or something.

For now, the plane ride back from Atlanta will have to suffice. I spent the day down under at the Lenox Square Mall in “Hot-lanta” at another consumer event with Joe Namath. Poor me, right? The main focus of the day was a talk about exercising and the importance of taking care of your body. Perhaps more importantly, however, was the chance to meet a couple hundred more people with arthritis. Nothing I like more than meeting people and hearing their stories. Some of them are depressing, others are inspiring. Still others are an opportunity to learn something. I’d travel to all corners of the world if I knew there would be a room filled with arthritics. There’s something about people with arthritis where I can let my guard down and don’t have to constantly explain myself. Everyone I met today ‘understood’, which was really comforting and certainly a change from what I’m used to (‘what’s a kid like you doing with arthritis?’). And hey, couple more CreakyJoints members never hurt, either.

Not to mention the chance to meet CreakyJoints members in real life. Like Megan, who is 17 and has JRA. It was really good to see her smiling face and listen to her sweet southern accent (certainly a change from the ‘New Yawk’ or ‘Bahston’ accents) and see how optimistic she is, despite her dozens of knee surgeries.

And finally, there was the chance to sit down, have breakfast and talk to a person like Ginger from Birmingham. Not only is she as sharp as a tack and friendly as a friendly person (no analogy would do her justice), but she’s such a pleasure work to know. She’s the keeper of all the secrets, and the ‘voix de raison’ when it comes to doing in that friendly place called the south. They say that every community has one exceptional person. I’m lucky to have met her.