24 Our Voice / May 2014
The loud tapping of his heavy Mont Blanc fountain pen against
the wooden desk snapped me back to reality. Perhaps it was my
hearing. Yes of course my hearing! I politely leaned in and
asked my physician to repeat his words. Again he said Lupus. I
looked at him as he rustled through some papers and I thought…
perhaps it’s his eyesight. I defiantly repeated my name with a
smug “Are you certain?” tagged onto the end. He looked
at me as if I had two heads. Why shouldn’t he. He had
been my physician almost all of my adult life. Of course
he knew me so it had to be true. As he spoke I found his
words incomprehensible. In my head he had morphed
into Mrs. Donovan, Charlie Brown’s teacher.
How did I get here? I worked out, ate right and drank gallons of
water. None of that mattered. I was nice to people, helpful and
accommodating. That didn’t matter either. I sat thinking back
to what I thought to be the flu. A flu from which I never
seemed to recover. I was tired, achy and feverish. My
fingers, hands, wrists and elbows constantly ached but
wasn’t that carpal tunnel? I quietly eyed his fancy pen.
Almost snatching it and depositing it into my purse as I
made my exit.
The sun was beating down on my bare back. I wore a red and white
sundress, my red cardigan carelessly tossed across my arm. My hair
was in curls, I had a chipped nail and freshly painted toes. My sandals
and my purse didn’t match. I looked at my phone with three missed
calls; one from my son and two from the office. I got into my car. There
was 60 cents in the cup holder, 2 quarters, 2 nickels and a pinkish
colored jolly rancher. Glide by Pleasure was on the radio. I remember
everything about this day. I thought it to be the end of my life.
All of knew of Lupus were whispers that my crazy cat lady Aunt Katie had
it. I immediately thought I would slowly lose my mind and surround
myself with out of control felines. I rang my father who laughed an
explained she was not my Aunt with Lupus but was just certifiable. He
tried to lighten my mood by telling me how he took her to a mental
hospital and collected a $100 finder’s fee. He told me both his sisters have
Lupus. I thought that’s not possible. My Aunt Dee just spent a week with
me. She came down to run the Peachtree Road Race. But, my Aunt
Sweetie was in a wheel chair. His words were pointed “Call Dee… Don’t
call Sweetie”. Of course I didn’t listen.