Unlike many of the stories I have been reading here, I was diagnosed several years ago, in April of 1985. That was after a year of several family doctor visits who continually said it was nothing to worry about. It was only at the insistence of friends & family that I asked my family physician to refer me to a specialist. The only symptom I thought I had was Raynaud's. When I went to an internist he began asking several questions--Do you have heartburn? Do you ever have trouble swallowing? The answers to both were yes, but I never even gave it a thought that they may have anything to do with my fingers turning color. He took some tests and asked me if any family members had come to my appointment with me. This was beginning to sound serious. Thank goodness my husband was in the waiting room. When I came back from getting him, the Internist had brought in a Rheumatologist. Together they told us they were quite sure I had Scleroderma. What's that, I asked. I had never heard of it.

I first realized I was getting short of breath too easily when I tried to go for a walk with my Dad just a few months after he had triple bypass surgery. That was in 1986, and he could out walk me. That summer my mother died of cancer and the stress of that made the Raynaud's attacks more frequently. Over the years I have had just about every symptom. I used to get those terribly painful sores on my fingers that wouldn't want to heal. This was while I was still working. Remember, I was a legal secretary and did a tremendous amount of typing. I got really good at typing with 3 and sometimes only 2 fingers on each hand because of the sores on the other fingers. Thankfully, it has been several years now since I have had any of those finger ulcers. I don't know why, I just don't get them any more. I can tell you that at the time putting Vitamin E oil on them and soaking them in warm salt water helped more than anything.

There was a time when I hated to have blood drawn because they could never find the vein because my skin was so hard and thick. This too, seems to have come and gone, possibly because of the D-penicillimine (we're not sure) that I was on for several years.

Prilosec has taken care of the heartburn. The swallowing is much better. The diarrhea and vomiting, after losing over a 100 pounds, has thankfully not been a problem for the past year. I always tell people now who complain about being overweight like I always used to, don't worry about your weight, some day you might need it like I did. Try as I may, I cannot gain any weight back and today weigh only 102 pounds, while throughout my high school years when I was healthy and looked good, weighed 140.

I never could have made it through these past 14 years without my family, especially my husband, Al. He has taken over doing the laundry because our washer and dryer are in the basement and walking stairs is almost impossible for me to do. Even if I could, the bending over and pulling and lifting clothes out of the washer & dryer is more than I can handle. He and my son do the vacuuming and scrubbing floors. I can still do the cooking.

I now spend most of my day reading, which I have always loved to do but never found the time, watching TV, cooking and baking and more and more lately, sleeping, because I am forever tired. But I'm not giving up. God has let me live to see my daughter get married last year (July of 1998) and my son graduate from high school this year. I'll not kid you, there are many, many times I get discouraged and it's then I turn to God and pray all the harder.

So, for those of you newly diagnosed: No, this certainly isn't going to be a picnic, but it's not the end of the world, or your life either. Hang in there.