I miss methotrexate. In my four long years of sparring with Rheumatoid Arthritis, methotrexate has been my arch enemy. I hated it. I hated injecting neon yellow liquid into my body. I hated having to keep ginger ale and Cheerios on my nightstand every Saturday night. I hated sleeping away my Sunday. Sleeping away a day that could’ve been spent with my family. I hated being white as a sheet because I felt so awful.
Enter Arava. I was off Humira and methotrexate for 6 weeks while I underwent knee surgery. I met with my Rheumatologist last week and she thought it was a perfect opportunity to reevaluate. I agreed. I explained how I hated losing time to methotrexate. How awful I felt after injecting it. She suggested we give Arava a try.
I was nervous to start, but then again, everything makes me nervous. Having Type 1 Diabetes, I’m extremely protective of my organs. But I bit the bullet and downed my first Arava pill on Saturday.
Nauseous? Yeah. That was to be expected. High blood sugars? Uh, no. That wasn’t on the list of side effects. I reached out to my endo who spent time researching Arava and found 1-3% have a blood sugar increase. Figures. It wasn’t too crazy so I figured I’d at least give it a few weeks.
Enter high blood pressure. I decided to check it and it was much higher than usual. Tonight I checked again, and again it was high. Too high.
I’m not taking another Arava pill (message sent to my rheumy). This isn’t worth it. You might argue that I didn’t give it a chance. But losing a day to methotrexate, in my opinion, is ok compared to my blood pressure and blood sugar going up.
And you know what? I actually feel pretty good. Did I waste time on a med that I now have to remove from my body? Yeah. But I tried. I learned and I tried. And that’s good enough for me.