Nine years today I sat in a chair at the Quest Diagnostics Lab over by the movie theater while the nice gentleman with a very long gray braid down his back drained me of 28 vials of blood. Today is the anniversary of that day, the day I consider to be my lupus diagnosis anniversary, and, ironically, today is also Good Friday when Christians like me remember and reflect on how Jesus died on the cross for us. It's an interesting day of mixed feelings. Lots of reflection of past events, and lots of wondering what the future has in store for me.
Yesterday, I was in that same chair at Quest.
I've been telling people this is the 10th anniversary. No. I do this all the time for some reason. I keep adding a year. Facebook memories corrected me. It's 9 years. 9. Next year will be 10.
Where am I at? Well, I was in remission. Was. Yes, past tense. Was. That is all I have to say about that at this time. This is my first public declaration about my health in many months. I am no longer in remission.
I started getting suspicious last fall, shortly after I released Power of Ketchup. Lupus likes to sneak up on a person.
My Lupus journey has been filled with so many blessings and curses. There are too many to navigate. People have come and gone. People are still coming and going. I have changed significantly.
In a previous post from years ago, I wrote about how I quickly discovered who loved me for real and who didn't. That was true, but it wasn't the only lesson to be learned about other people. Turns out time also shows true colors. Some I thought would stick have fled. Others I thought were gone forever have returned better than ever. Feelings change. People change. Situations change. Life is change.
I have also learned al lot more about myself. I have learned that I do know what real love is. I know God totally has my back. He is with me every step. And I am extremely resilient. I don't live hard, but I love hard. I love with a devotion that scares people away, so I keep it mostly to myself. I have no fear of death, and have even lost much of my fear of pain. Not all.
I know what is and is not most important most of the time. When I screw it up, I say sorry. Sorry is only a bad word when apologizing for something I did not do. I don't apologize for apologizing. I fell for that myth that I apologize too much. No, I don't. I'm sorry if my sorry offends you. That is not my problem. My problem is in me, not around me. My responsibility is to love, to apologize, to forgive, to worship, and to keep moving forward.
Christ died for me about 2000 years ago. That is the only explanation I need to give, except to say he did it for you too.
No is a complete sentence.
Boundaries are good. Walls are bad.
Money does not buy happiness, but it does keep the doctors around so I can eat them apples.
That some men are way too fixated on curves and not enough on a woman's mind.
That putting anything or anyone before God will lead to utter destruction.
Finally, that love is the answer. The problem is that the answer might look vastly different than you expected. Expectations are the root of the problem.
So, keep that covid away from me. My body is confused enough as is. If I love you, know it. Don't question it. And please, when next we meet, keep your pity to yourself, cause I occupied over here finding something to be happy about. Why? Because I am nine years alive, and I've got many more years to go!
Thanks for readying. Shoot me an email if you wish at humorinchaos@gmail.com.
Sarah
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