I felt sick tonight.  Pain gripped the left side of my head, its heavy hand pulling me down into dizzying, nauseous fatigue.  I didn’t want to eat, though my body was telling me I needed to. Napping didn’t entirely work, so I sprawled across my couch, face down, pulling at my hair in an attempt to “stretch out the pain.”  I wanted to call my mom.  I wanted her to kiss my forehead and make me soup while I convalesced beneath my fuzzy blanket.  For a good, solid two minutes that’s all I wanted, until I looked up from my phone and shook my head in disbelief.  These “mini-flare” symptoms have been part of my Lupus life for as long as I can remember.  I know the drill.  I know what to do.

God, being this pain-free has really wussed me out.

I put down the phone and I stepped into a hot shower, where I massaged my head and stretched out my stiff body.  After additional rest, I forced myself to make something appetizing and healthy to eat and then I forced myself to eat it.  I still feel a bit nauseous, but since deciding not to let my pain be my focal point, I feel much better.  My fellow Lupie and lovely “sister keeper” from down South articulated this skill perfectly – “She had discovered and mastered the art of not puking.”  For those of you who are curious, severe cases usually require staying still and an iron will.

I have just finished my first day at the “Lupus Day Hospital;” three days of sessions with health professionals like occupational therapists, physiotherapists and dieticians.  Once I have the energy, I promise to blog about it.  Also, upon the advice of a fellow blogger, I have decided to add “tags” to my postings as a way for my readers to easily find posts about topics of interest.  You will see my “tag cloud” on the right.  Just click on a topic and it will show you a list of relevant posts. I was only able to get through September and half of October’s postings.  Tonight is not the night to finish the task.

So, with that dear friends, I leave you.  I’m increasingly aware that the longer I stay on this computer, the more probable that my “puke barrier” will go to shit.  Tonight’s battle is not entirely won.  Time to sleep.

Today is for Lupus

The rain forces my chin towards my chest as I tiptoe across the parking lot towards my car.  Puddles lie camouflaged on the drenched concrete.  I splash around like an awkard duckling, an unwilling playmate to the onslaught of rain.  I’m slightly annoyed, but not enough to run.  My muscles tense as the colour drains from of my fingertips and toes.

My head hurts.  My thoughts hurt.  I need a nap.

Today has “Lupus” written all over it.  It’s “World Lupus Day.”  It’s also “Lupus Awareness Month” in the U.S.  The slightly irritated part of me thinks that I, along with everyone else in the world, could care less.  The usually optimistic part of me scolds me for being such a grump.

So, what does a Lupie girl do on a day like today?  How do I recognize and acknowledge the millions of people who live with me on this mad, crazy, Lupie world?  I did it by doing the best and sometimes, the hardest thing for any Lupie to do:  I listened to my body.

I took a nap.