The Blame Game

I was diagnosed with AS in 2016, but I was managing a vast spectrum of pain since 2011.

My symptoms included intermittent bouts of iritis, sciatica, stiffness, stabbing pains, crippling fatigue, limited flexibility, and feelings of dread and hopelessness.

“You have ankylosing spondylitis, a chronic illness with no cure,” my rheumatologist said matter-of-factly. He offered no hope of recovery, no hope my pain would ever subside, and no empathy whatsoever.

I pulled over many times on the drive home because I couldn’t see through my tears.

After my diagnosis, I constantly searched for someone or something to blame.

I blamed my issues on over-activity

In 2011, I was a high school English teacher. It was only my second year, and as a new teacher, I wanted to shine in every way possible so my contract would be renewed. I took on honors courses and began coaching cross country. I ran with the team daily and then returned home to walk my dog, grade papers, and plan lessons for the following day.

It was around this time when I started to experience shooting pains down my legs. Sometimes the pain would be in the right leg, and other times the left leg. It came and went. Some days it would be constant, while other days it was absent. I started doing more stretches before and after runs, but my efforts were useless. I gave in and saw a doctor who gave me some pain killers and I went on my way.

I blamed my issues on stress

In 2013, I suffered through the emotional turmoil of divorce. Married in 2010, my then-husband and I once enjoyed a happy life together. In 2012, we drifted apart and, as time passed, the divide became too large to reconcile. The accumulation of many sleepless nights, countless fights, and the effects of emotional abuse wreaked havoc on my immune system. We divorced in 2014.

At the same time, I switched schools and began teaching at a school in suburban Chicago. The transition was rough, and my first year at this particular school was especially terrible. At first, my colleagues appeared to be welcoming and warm, but it soon became clear that I would receive little support. Since I was new, my students preyed on my naiveté. They were disrespectful and uncooperative. Miraculously, I survived that first year, and consequently gained the respect of my colleagues and future students. But that survival came at a cost.

The personal and professional stress buried deep within my body. It physically manifested in bouts of shooting pain in my legs, spine, lower and upper back. I also began to have recurring episodes of iritis in my left eye.

I blamed my ankylosing spondylitis on my genes

My family’s history is marred by both physical and mental afflictions. Asthma, heart disease, and cancers of all types. Brain aneurysms, poor circulation, and blood clots. Alcoholism, bipolar disorder, and addictive personality disorders. All this and more combined into a harsh genetic cocktail, and could have contributed to the presence of HLA-B27 on my white blood cells.

Over time, I found that blaming and anger only made my issues worse. Persevering with a negative attitude about my condition didn’t allow my body to heal. It kept me in a constant state of depression, anxiety, and limited mobility.

After allowing for a grieving period, I started to take steps towards healing. I began with medications like Meloxicam and Humira, while seeing a naturopathic doctor who helped me learn that I needed to increase the good bacteria in my gut as well as avoid inflammatory foods. I began talking about my illness. Through communicating my needs, I started to feel a sort of catharsis.

My recovery started when I started taking ownership of my illness

Once I stopped blaming, I began to accept a path towards recovery. I adopted a positive attitude towards my health goals. This didn’t happen overnight. After several years, I can say that my AS has been in remission since 2016.

Now, I’m thankful I can sleep through the night without pain. I can walk without falling. I can run. I can play with my children and I can dance with my husband. I can mow the lawn. I can shop for groceries and lift heavy bags from my car. These things are so simple, and yet many people cannot do the most basic tasks due to chronic pain.

I’ll never take my “pain-free” life for granted. I understand mine is a lifelong battle. To maintain my remission, I actively do many small things each day. I stick to an anti-inflammatory diet. I exercise daily. I’ve switched to a less-stressful career. I live in a small town surrounded by nature. All of these decisions and more have helped manage my AS.