Monday, May 12, 2014


It has been a suffering weekend. I started breaking out in itchy bumps that soon turned into sores. The last time this happened I was diagnosed with vasculitis, which isn't a good thing. I told my GP about it and he said, "that's for your rheumatologist to deal with." Since my rheumatologist is only in Lexington a couple of days a week and hard to get an appointment with, I'm suffering. So tired of scratching. Quite frankly I'm tired of only going anywhere when the anywhere is a doctor's office or a hospital for tests.

It has also turned to "summer heat" in Wilmore which hasn't helped. Heat and cold have an adverse affect on my body and lupus flares. I don't look forward to summer. Heat has always had a bad affect on me. It also affects the medications I take for this horrible disease.

I read an article about talking out anger and frustration about this illness. When I try, most people just hit me with advice and reasons why I'm sick in the first place. I get so aggravated that I just shut up and internalize the stress. I know it isn't the right thing to do, but sometimes people just don't want to hear the truth about a situation and most won't get it unless they, too, suffer from it.

The article is here:

Read it if you know someone who is suffering from any illness. You might be enlightened.

My neighbor's peonies are blooming right now, but I just don't have the strength to walk outside and smell them. Peonies are my favorite flowers and they bloom in KY. For now I'll just enjoy their beauty from the window.

Ran across some pictures of the beach last night. I miss the beach and its beautiful scenery. There is nothing more serene or healing as a walk on the beach. Even though I can no longer feel the sand underneath my feet, I remember the combination of softness and firmness.

As I was flipping channels today, I paused on some show where a woman was saying how much she loved her husband and how she appreciates him for protecting her from the world. I realized this has never happened to me, not even as a child. My parents never involved themselves in my life. They just said "deal with it" when I came home hurt after being bullied and after those bullied years turned into twelve years. I never had a husband so there has never been anyone to stand between me and the world. I've had to deal with every problem that has knocked me down, crushed me, beaten me to a pulp, and almost destroyed me. No matter what, I always seemed to pull myself up after crying a sea of tears.

It would be so nice to have someone stand between me and the world, but I know this isn't a reality for my life. I cannot even imagine what that must feel like. The closest I've ever come is when I would go home at the end of a quarter from college. There was something secure about walking in the door of home and crawling into my bed. Something safe, something soothing. When my dad died, the last member of my family, that security died with him.

I've always been told "Home is where the heart is." I think I lost my heart after I lost my entire family because I nowhere has felt like home. I've also been told God provides a family to take you in when you don't have a family of your own. When I was so sick that someone had to come in to look after me, clean for me, etc., I learned a great deal about "families." I learned many families used the service so that they wouldn't have to visit their sick loved one at all. In fact, they just threw them away (this told to me by a director of the service).

Maybe this is why I feed stray animals and give what I have to those who have nothing. I know how it feels to be thrown away and alone in the world.

We live in an "out of sight out of mind" world that only thinks of you if you are of service to it. Makes me more aware of those like me who are no longer considered "of service" to the world. If only others would be more aware.


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