Varela The desert and you What does the desert mean to you? Do you think it is beautiful? Boring? Too hot? Just right? Have its animals or plants been important in your life? Do you think you would miss the desert if you moved away? You could write a personal story, also called an essay, about the Sonoran Desert, just as Lorraine Varela and Linda Chavaria have.

At the height of Tucson's population boom, health seekers believed that a dry desert was the best remedy to cure diseases, including tuberculosis, asthma and arthritis. The afflicted flocked here for the open air and everlasting sunlight.

I was blessed enough to have been born in the desert. When I was an infant, my mother, after she'd bathe me, would open the curtains and lay me next to the window. She wanted the sun to warm me. Little did she know how important that sunshine would be.

Memories of the first symptoms still linger. It was just a simple headache, nothing Tylenol couldn't handle. But soon the pain began to radiate up to my skull and shoot down my spine. Trips to the doctor were useless. It seemed like no one would believe a 13-year-old child could possibly have back pain to such a degree. They simply gave me ibuprofen and said they would like me to see a counselor. They thought I was making it up. Then, suddenly, I couldn't get out of bed. Finally, the doctors took me seriously. For three months I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, discovering shapes and designs hidden in the crevices. I spent a lot of time thinking of the things I had been able to do. The thing I missed the most was just being able to spend time in the open desert, to move my body freely and without pain.

At 14, I was finally diagnosed with fibromyalgia and ankylosing spondilitis. These two diseases combined were not favorable for a healthy future. Fibromyalgia is a muscular disorder that causes chronic pain, fatigue, sleeping problems and headaches. Ankylosing spondilitis, the worse of the two, is a crippling arthritis of the spine. That one word, "crippling," said it all to me. I understood. There is no cure for either illness, though the doctors said there was a 20 percent chance I might grow out of it. In the meantime, all I could do, I was told, was continue massage and whirlpool therapies and pray that the illness would eventually leave me.

No longer was I a normal child. I lived on medication, in pain, and envious of the healthy. Giant palm trees danced, and children ran as I wished I could. I was trapped in my own body.

As years passed by, I got tired of popping pills and wanted to look for a natural remedy. I went to see a naturopathic specialist. At first I had no faith in diets and natural supplements, but still, I stuck to them. After a week, I began to feel results. My range of motion increased, and my pain decreased. Soon I was off of all prescription drugs and moving just fine without a back brace. I began walking distances again, taking trips around the neighborhood and across the school campus.

Being mobile again gave my surroundings more meaning. I saw bluer skies, gleaming purple mountains, golden grounds and rainbow-colored sunsets. The world around me was colorful, and simple activities in life held new excitement. It was the same world I had grown up in, yet it looked so much more beautiful.

Now I'm 18. Doctors have not detected ankylosing spondilitis for more than a year. I still have fibromyalgia, but I've learned to adjust to the pain, to live with it.

As it has for so many others, the desert has helped my healing process. Though cool mornings and winters are a challenge - my joints are stiff and muscles are chilled - the desert summer carries the most relief. The sun is my best remedy. Now, when I'm stiff or sore or in pain, I sit in a lawn chair in the center of the yard. I put my back to the sun and let the heat penetrate it. It loosens and heals my distressed body.

I am not the only one who has allowed the desert to heal me. For decades, the ill have sought refuge in the desert. In my first years of life, my mother sat at my bedside. Now she walks with me in the sun to witness the miracle of healing.