Thirty-seven years ago, my life was abruptly altered. It was my last year of college and I woke up one night with so much pain in my ribs – both front and back – that I had difficulty breathing.
It continued to happen night after night and I knew that I’d better get it checked out.
Within a week, my parents took me to a rheumatologist? Why that specialty? Because oddly enough my sister – who is five years my senior – had been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis eight years earlier and they thought it was possible that I also had RA. They were close enough.Read More