My first appointment with the rheumatologist was nothing exciting. I remember having to bend my joints so he could see if there was anything wrong with them and he felt the joints that were having the most problems. He said that he didn't feel any swelling and until that did happen he couldn't give me an actual diagnosis. So, the result was just wait and see. He also started me on a drug called Plaquenil.
A month later I went back and this time my joints were swelling. He said something to the affect of, "I sure hate to see this happen." It was all I could do to not burst into tears right in front of him, but as soon as I left I cried my eyes out. It's a horrible feeling when you find out your body has betrayed you, that your own immune system is so out of whack it is attacking itself. It doesn't make any sense. I remember just wanting to be alone and I went on one of my favorite hiking trails. I was so angry that I pretty much ran the trail (and I'm definitely NOT a runner) until I got all of my frustration out. Then I had to start thinking rationally and try to not let this disease get me down.
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