I can’t remember a time in my life when there hasn’t been pain somewhere in my body. It came to dominate much of my adult life. If somebody hasn’t been in constant pain, it’s hard to describe it to them. You’re masking the whole time, and everything is so much more difficult. The mornings were the worst for me as the throbbing and aching sensations would set in when I was lying still. The day it took me 45 minutes just to get out of bed because of the agony I was in, I knew something had to change.
As a child, I often had aches in my arms and legs. The doctor told me it was rheumatism and prescribed calcium tablets. I was a very active child and didn’t let the aches get in the way of riding ponies, playing on county sports teams and doing athletics and gymnastics. As soon as I’d lay down to sleep, my elbows, knees and ankles would hurt, but I just got on with it, only taking paracetamol when symptoms started to worsen in my teens.
By age 21 the pain was often excruciating, and I was referred for neurological tests and blood tests – and that’s when arthritis was diagnosed. My GP very bluntly informed me that I may need a wheelchair by the time I was 30. It was a terrible shock, but I was given no advice, beyond taking paracetamol or Ibuprofen
Luckily, I was still very fit and active and, without really knowing it, by going to the gym regularly I was protecting my joints by strengthening the muscles. I enjoyed my 20s – in fact, I had a ball. I’d married my childhood sweetheart Mark, and we had good jobs and social lives, going out five or six times a week. We liked a drink – for me it was always vodka, gin, or rum with Diet Coke. I loved my work in procurement in the tech and fashion industries, and never mentioned my condition in the workplace. But when my body was still, that’s when the pain would ramp up. I’d had the pain from before I knew him, so for Mark it was just part of my life.