I have lived with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis (JRA) for 43 years. I was never angry that I had the disease nor felt sorry for myself at any time during my childhood no matter how hard it was to walk, get dressed, turn a doorknob, or get my education. My mom made sure I always remembered that while my life may have been difficult at times, there was always someone who had more difficult trials.

Years later, when I learned my baby niece was diagnosed with JRA, I was angry for the first time. I was in college and I vividly remember the night my brother called me with the horrible news. The ringing phone seemed to whine impatiently, as I stumbled getting out of bed. "Hold on," I said under my breath, as I clumsily made my way through the pitch-black dorm room to answer it. "Who could be calling at this hour," I groggily said to myself. The red light of the digital alarm clock pierced through the darkness and I could clearly see that it was 10:20 at night.

Being a typical college student, I was usually up until one or two o'clock in the morning, but not because I was studying. Rather, I was watching TV or talking to my friends. This particular night, I decided to go to bed early - 10:00. I wasn't really tired, nor did I have any urgent studying to do or papers to write. However, my friends did, so no one could hang out, and there wasn't anything interesting on TV to watch either, so out of pure boredom, I went to bed.

I managed to pick up the phone on the third ring. "Hello," I answered in a sluggish tone. "Hi," my brother, David replied. I knew something must be wrong because, while he called me frequently to check on me, he never called after 8:00 in the evening. His voice reflected sorrow as he said that his little girl, my then ten-month-old niece, had been diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis.

I felt like someone had grabbed my throat and was choking me. I was suffocating with anger, and for the first time in my life, I was mad at God. He (God) had no right to allow an innocent baby to have to live her life in pain. JRA was something I had dealt with since birth, but Diane was different - she was my baby niece.

Article Author: Carolyn Rumple

I love to write and I have been writing, since I was a teenager. I love to write short stories, blog, poetry and even lyrics. I have been married for almost 17 years to my best friend. I love to write about my life. …

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