Getting old. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I’ve been told that it “sucks.” Oh, that’s right, it was everyone old I ever knew. Now, having Rheumatoid Arthritis since the age of nine, my body began to wear out the day I was diagnosed, and I had just assumed that my disease was an early form of that wonder of nature called aging. Unfortunately, it’s looking like that’s not the case as my disease and time itself are now locked in a race to the death – to my death, as they fight one another in a bloody conflict for the right to make my body even more useless than it already is. Their war rages on, but no matter who wins, I lose.