A Medical and Spiritual Journey, Part One: The Verdict

Distinctly odd. So many ways to view memories. And myriad ways for a writer to use the material of her life. At the time these events took place not one word can I find in my Journals about my huge rheumatoid arthritis scare. I wrote of these life-changing events years later, first in Reconnecting the Healing Circle:

Day Fifty-one

I’ve roamed my library and re-found a book I once read to great effect. A refresher course may be in order.

I remember the book and that time well. A Manhattan specialist recommended by a friend with a talent for searching out the best, kindly laid out my life:

“You have the rheumatoid factor in your blood and your sedimentation index is high, denoting active disease. You most probably have rheumatoid arthritis. What is significant is that your fingers,” he took both hands and again pointed to the swelled red knots I well knew were there, “are showing bi-lateral damage. We do not know enough to cure this disease, but early treatment is indicated and helpful. Here is a prescription for buffered aspirin. Take six a day, two after every meal.”

“Don’t worry,” he added, as he read behind the smile I smiled to show that I understood and didn’t blame him, “the medical profession can do a great deal to help you.”

I told my friend of this outcome. We commiserated. I went home (to Tallahassee; this is before London). I got the prescription filled. But I couldn’t start taking the pills. To take the medicine meant I accepted the specialist’s verdict. I couldn’t accept that verdict. Day by day I kept not taking the large red pills.

I ignored the pain in my fingers, continuing my usual routine of writing every morning, crying every afternoon. As I look back now, my life then was truly weird. Living in self-imposed isolation (after all I was writing a novel), I didn’t even know why I cried. I never made the connection that my ideal life was falling about my ears and that my ideal marriage missed ideal by a long shot.

I’ve since learned that any time I make a big deal of telling myself how good I’ve got it and that any woman would appreciate having what I have, I better stop talking to myself and get on with looking hard at what is actually going on in my life — like crying every afternoon.

But learning to look was still in the future; I continued writing and crying and telling myself I should appreciate my life.

— JoAnn Lordahl, from Reconnecting the Healing Circle, Maupin House, 1993, pp. 81–82

Thank you for reading. Reading and writing consume most of my dwindling energy these days. Till Next Time . . . Stay safe, stay healthy, be kind.

Dr. Jo Ann Lordahl is a lifelong author, poet, novelist, and speaker whose work explores empowerment, aging with grace, and the deep questions that define our lives. Her books and reflections — from historical fiction to meditations on creative living — encourage resilience, reflection, and positive transformation.

If this post stirs questions about moral courage, shared humanity, or the work of healing in hard times, consider exploring Dr. Lordahl’s writing — especially her essays and books on reflection and personal transformation. Her voice reminds us that even in upheaval, there is a path toward patience, insight, and compassionate action.