My sister Molly was almost two when we found out she had Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis (JRA), and only being four years old at the time, I couldn't quite comprehend what that meant. For anyone who doesn't know about JRA, it's a disease that causes inflammation around joints in the body which can lead to severe pain. She was diagnosed with JRA in both of her knees, her right index finger, and her right ankle.
Now, Molly and I could not be more different. She's tall, blonde-headed, blue-eyed and is a self proclaimed makeup artist, while I'm short with hazel eyes and dark hair, and most days it's lucky if I even put mascara on. But growing up, I never viewed her condition as making her any different than I was. Her tri-monthly visits to Cardinal Glennon in St. Louis were always just more trips to Build-A-Bear for us, and her therapy sessions at Special Learning Center in Jefferson City were always just more opportunities for me to play in the ball pit. I had no idea that my sister was any different than me.
But as I started to grow up, I started to notice her illness. Her medication slowed her hair growth and caused a loss of appetite. I realized that she couldn't jump on trampolines with me, and that her therapy sessions and trips to St. Louis weren't just times to get another stuffed animal or to play in the therapy room. As she got older, for the most part, Molly was getting better. But there were bad days... days where I went to our school alone because she physically couldn't get out of bed. My parents would have to carry her to a hot bath to try and relieve some pain from the inflammation. And yet, I still never thought of these days in a bad light. They were just something that happened, not completely normal, but not totally out of the ordinary.
Years have gone by and my sister is one of the lucky JRA patients. Over her many, many doctor appointments, we would see children wheelchair bound for the rest of their lives due to the arthritis taking over their bodies. Because, if JRA isn't caught early enough, it can cause the joints to fuse together and prevent mobility. Molly's was caught in an early stage, and through medication and therapy, she was put into remission in early 2015.
Looking back on my childhood, I know now that what Molly went through was something bigger than what I made it out to be. My sister is my biggest role model. I may be older than her, but she's stronger than me. She endured so much as a child, making it so easy to give up and let an illness over take her body, but she didn't. Molly fought JRA for about 13 years, and never once did she give up. When I have bad days, or think I can't get through stressful times in my life I think of her and how she never gave up.
My sister is my best friend and my biggest inspiration. She makes me want to not just be a better person, but a better friend, sister, and support system. Without her, I would never have been the person I am today. She's my hero.
