http://goo.gl/tezDGt
The truth is, I had no idea what autoimmune disease really was. For years, I’d known that two of my mother’s sisters had rheumatoid arthritis and ulcerative colitis (and my father’s youngest sister had recently learned she had Hashimoto’s). But I didn’t understand that these diseases might somehow be connected. At Christmas, I’d had lunch with three of my mother’s sisters—humorous, unself-pitying Irish-American women in their fifties—at my grandmother’s condo on the Jersey Shore, and they told me that two of my cousins had been feeling inexplicably debilitated. “None of the doctors can figure out what it is,” one said, “but I think it’s thyroid-related.” Another aunt told us that, along with the rheumatoid arthritis she’d had for years, she, too, had recently been given a diagnosis of Hashimoto’s, and both were autoimmune in nature. The third aunt had ulcerative colitis, and told me that a cousin had just been given that diagnosis, too. “They’re all connected,” one of them explained.