Rick Hahn wanted to die. At the age of 23, he was in constant pain, had no job and was living in a trailer parked in a junkyard. His family surrounded him with love and support, but he felt alone.

"I thought I was going to die and if I didn't die, I thought I should," he said.

Hahn, 43, suffers from reactive arthritis, or Reiter's Syndrome, one of four spondyloarthropathies, a form of arthritis classified as an autoimmune disorder that is genetic in origin. Autoimmune diseases are illnesses which occur when body tissues are mistakenly attacked by its own immune system.

The four spondyloarthropathies are reactive arthritis, ankylosing spondylitis, psoriatic arthritis and inflammatory bowel disease. They attack the body in different ways depending on the type. This group of rheumatic diseases share similar clinical features of arthritis, including skin rashes, conjunctivitis, inflammation of mucosal surfaces and inflammation in the tendons.

Hahn's particular spondyloarthropathy attacked his back and eyes. His back ached so he couldn't move without pain and his eyes watered and formed a crust that had to be removed.

This type of spondyloarthropathy is a combination of arthritis, conjunctivitis and urethritis (or dysentery), which is called a "reactive arthritis" because joint inflmmation that occurs in Reiter's appears to be a reaction to an infection that originates in areas of the body other than the joints.

As with all autoimmune diseases, there's no cure for Reiter's. So patients like Hahn can only wait and hope for remission. n n n Hahn's symptoms started in the early '80s, with back pain.

He'd struggle to get out of bed, and by the time he had showered, he had to rest. Most days he went back to bed and watched television all day.

His eyes became so sensitive to light, he put towels over the windows.

Finally, his condition worsened to the point that he couldn't move his neck. Tears ran down his face, making it nearly impossible to see. He quit his job driving truck.

A few months after the initial onset of the pain, a local physician diagnosed Hahn with Reiter's Syndrome. The doctor also said there was no cure and Hahn would have to get used to the pain. He said the condition could go into remission, but Hahn shouldn't count on it.

The doctor gave Hahn pills, ointment and drops for his eyes.

Hahn lost 60 pounds. He pushed away family members and friends who reached out to him.

"The last thing you want to be is a burden," he said. "I didn't want people visiting me. I just wanted them to leave me alone and let me die."

He sold the home he was buying and lived in a travel trailer for more than a year.

Finally, he came out of the "flare."

In arthritis, intense periods of pain and disability are called "flares", short for flare-ups. For Hahn, that first flare lasted almost two years. Twenty years later, he is in complete remission.

During that time, Hahn married twice and has had two children.

"You can never be fine," he said. "You wonder if you want to ever get married again. Do you want to saddle someone with this? Dating is never comfortable because of this thing."

But since his diagnosis, Hahn has consistently progressed. He got back into driving truck, bought land, built a shop, stopped drinking and began exercising.

n n n Hahn started his recovery with knowledge, learning everything he could about the disease.

A self-taught computer geek, Hahn searched the Internet for information about rare arthritis types: reactive arthritis, ankylosing spondylitis, psoriatic arthritis and inflammatory bowel disease.

Most of his searches were fruitless. One day, frustrated, he typed "Am I the only one with this?" and hit the "send" button.

It was a turning point for Hahn. Soon, he was corresponding to people from all over the world who shared his symptoms -- and his hunger for information about their diseases.

"No one knows we exist," Hahn said. "It was the same story, no matter where they were."

Supported by his faith and his e-mail friends, Hahn started Reiter's Information and Support Group (RISG), and in 1995 built a Web site, www.risg.org.

The site's theme is "You're Not Alone."

"God wanted me to do this," Hahn said. "It wasn't my idea. And I wanted everyone to know that they are not alone."

About 100 people joined the initial group. For three years, Hahn spent about $75 a month on the Web site, until it became a nonprofit organization and people could make donations for its maintenance. The membership flourished.

Now more than 500 belong. They call each other on the phone and even fly across the country to see each other, Hahn said.

"I can't physically help them with their pain," he said, "but I can be here emotionally for them and deal with where they're at at the time ...

"The best reward is when I talk to people with children who have it and this gives them hope and understanding," he said.

When Hahn advertised the RISG Web site a few years ago, Doris Meese of Longview decided to give it a try.

"If something comes up that I don't understand, I can ask someone," Meese said. "It helps to know you're not the only one."

Hahn updates the Web site whenever he's at home. He scans news articles on the Web about rare arthritis types and links them to the RISG site. Every time he checks back in, there are plenty of e-mails to answer. Hahn estimated that the site takes almost of third of his at-home time.

He also keeps track of the Web site when he's on the road, thanks to a laptop.

Volunteers help Hahn maintain the Web site and answer requests for brochures and other information. The group includes H. Ray Neal, vice president of RISG, Matthew Van Neste, moderator and Steve Clancy, University of California science librarian.

On the road to recovery

After Hahn recovered from his first flare, he landed a truck driving job with Anderson Trucking, based in Los Angeles. Eventually Hahn got a job driving with Lower Columbia Trucking in Longview and has been with the outfit for almost 15 years.

He bought some land in Longview, built a shop and parked his travel trailer in the shop until he could afford a manufactured home.

"I was in survival mode," he said. "When you lose everything once, you don't want it to happen again. I wanted a place where I could be sick."

Hahn also had to deal with alcoholism. He started a rehabilitation program and has been sober for 11 years, he said.

Hahn also quit taking prescription medication when he went into remission. He said he walks a couple of times a week, works in his yard and rides his motorcycle.

Because of Hahn's profession, he is required to take a physical every two years. The results of his last exam revealed nothing abnormal. He doesn't go to the doctor otherwise, Hahn said.

"I'm just not the type to fix it if it's not broken."

Still, he knows the disease could flare again. Since that first intensely painful period, he's had flares with his eyes, feet and a rare backache.

"For several years, I wanted to forget it existed," Hahn said.

Although Hahn's son has been tested for the gene that could carry the disease, his daughter has not been tested. Hahn said according to his research, there is a 97 percent chance that his children will not get the disease.

Driving truck, staying in touch with his children and helping others who are dealing with pain, Hahn has learned a big lesson from a rare illness. "You've got the time, and you've got to appreciate it."

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