I wish I could say that I'm healed, but I can't. I still wake up every morning with soreness galore. I often find myself becoming complacent in my life when I'm not busy doing something. I'll look around to see the kid's toys all over the floor and wish that it didn't hurt so much to crawl or bend to pick them up or remember the baskets full of laundry upstairs that needs to be washed and wish that my knees and hips didn't ache so much going up and down the stairs. I look at my dishes piled up and strewn across the stove and counter and imagine a life where I could wash them without searing pain stabbing across my back, but then I think, this is my life and what can I really do about it?
Typing this out brings tears to my eyes because there is so much that I want to be and do.
- I want to be a good wife: the kind that cleans up the house, vacuums, does the laundry, dishes, and has dinner ready.
- I want to be a good mom: the kind who can give her kids piggy back rides and pick them up and sit with them on the ground to read a story.
- I want to be a good friend: the kind who is makes plans and keeps them and remembers birthdays and is always ready to help.
I'm sure there are some people who think I'm just lazy and some people who judge me for using a handicapped permit because I don't look sick, but in the end it doesn't really matter what people think. Nobody will ever understand what it is like to have this disease, unless they have this disease. No amount of me telling them or explaining it or having them imagine what it must be like will ever make them realize what it is truly like. I felt ashamed to talk about having Lupus for a long time because I didn't want to feel like a victim, but after being hospitalized after having Nola, the cat was out of the bag so to speak. Now I speak about Lupus pretty freely in hopes that we can grow our empathy for all the sufferers of invisible diseases.