That’s it. Just kill me now. Either kill me or put me into a coma for another couple of weeks until this whole “Dianny has been sick and can’t take her immunosuppressant” phase is over.
When I spoke with the nurse in my rheumatologist’s office back in April about staying off the immunosuppressant through at least the middle of May, I knew it was a trade-off. On the one hand, without it, my immune system has a better chance of kicking whatever illness has been dogging me since February 24th. On the other hand, hydroxychloroquine alone cannot effectively beat back my Lupus symptoms — which is the whole reason I was put on a second medication two years ago.
And now, thanks to this inconvenient and never-ending Dianny Virus, I remember just how bad it was before I started taking the second medication.
The frequent, excruciating Lupus flares are back with a vengeance. We’re talking the whole smorgasbord of Lupus symptoms from off-the-charts joint pain to fevers to skin sensitivity — and everything in between. And good grief, just kill me.
Have you ever tried to clip the toenails of a 55-pound pitbull while in the middle of a Lupus flare? I don’t recommend it. But I had to do it today because it had been a month since I clipped her nails and she was slipping every time she tried to walk on the hardwood floors.
Little known fact: Dogs don’t want to hear about your Lupus flare or how squirming and fighting during nail clipping makes it worse.
Then there’s my tiny 7-pound cat. She jumped up onto my legs last night, and it so much, I screamed in pain. Which naturally scared the crap out of her. So she took off for the basement and hid for the rest of the evening.
Little known fact: Cats are immune to apologies, no matter how sincere they might be.
I’ve been eating granola and Greek yogurt for supper because I can’t stand upright long enough to cook a meal.
I spent the better part of the day yesterday trying desperately to find a semi-comfortable position that didn’t make me insane.
You should see me struggle to get up off the couch. It’s like a Buster Keaton routine.
If I could just get away from this pain for an hour – just one pain-free hour – I’m sure this “kill me now” attitude would go away.
As it is, I’m done for today. I need to lie down and not to move for a while.
I always try to remember that, as bad as I might be right now, there are people who suffer more and endure far worse than I. And unlike me, there is no end to their pain. Sometimes that helps to keep this into perspective. Sometimes, I’m just too big a baby for it to work.
But as the old saying goes, this too shall pass. And it will pass. Unfortunately, the only way to get to the other side of it is to just suffer through it.
It isn’t fun. And it is exhausting as hell.
But there will be an end to it. It might not happen until I go back on the immunosuppressant. But it will eventually end.
In the meantime, all I can do is rest my body and try not overdo it. And in hindsight, I’m thinking clipping the dogs nails falls into the “overdo it” category.
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