Words aren’t going to help me stand up again. Words aren’t going to let me move my aching muscles

As told to Rochel Samet

My first thought when I wake up in the morning is, I’m never going to pass the Navi final.

My second thought is, I can’t get out of bed.

Then I take a deep breath, maneuver my feet to the edge of the bed, pull myself up s-l-o-w-l-y, and try to stand up.

That’s when I realize I was right on both counts: I’m not going to pass any finals today, because I literally can’t get out of bed.

My head is spinning. What’s happening to me? Why can’t I move my legs? Everything hurts so much. My knees are burning. I look down at my aching legs dangling uselessly over the side of the bed, and my breath catches in my throat. Why do my ankles look double their size?

I fall back on the bed and try to shift my legs into a comfortable position, but every movement is agony. I yelp in pain, and salvation appears at the door: Ma, knocking tentatively, and poking her head in.

“Libby? Was that you?”

I am so relieved to see her, I start to cry.

“Ma, I can’t walk, I can’t stand up, my legs don’t work, they hurt so much...”

She blinks. “Oh no, Libby, and you’ve been feeling so much better recently...”

I clench my blanket between sweaty fingers, then let go. My hand hurts too. “I don’t know... What’s wrong with me, Ma?” I burst out. “I can’t walk! There’s something wrong, I need help, you need to do something...”

“I’m going to call Ta,” Ma says. “Don’t worry, Libby, we’ll find out what this is all about. The doctor — or, I know, we’ll call the rheumatologist, that one who wanted to give you medication, maybe she can help...”