Our Voice May 2014 - Annual Lupus Awareness Edition | Page 25

Lupus Is Not The End

I sat in my car in the Publix parking lot and rang my Aunt Sweetie. Her voice was like molasses, slow and sweet. Without real pleasantries I explained why I was calling. She proceeded to tell me how crippling and prohibiting her life has been with Lupus. I listened to her describe her constant pain, frequent trips to the hospital and all the family activities she missed. I cried. She told me how she was “at death’s door” not once but twice. My phone beeped and it was my Aunt Dee. I told Aunt Sweetie I would visit her soon, blew kisses and clicked over.

Aunt Dee’s voice blared in my ears “Hey there girl”. She is my family’s Blanche Devereaux. We will never know her true age but she boasts she’s been driving men to drink since the 70’s. She immediately told me she had spoken to my father. Before I could ask she opened up about her battle with Lupus. Her story was very different from Aunt Sweetie’s. When she was diagnosed her physician’s attitude is what gave her strength. She wanted to know as much as she could about the disease. In her words “you can’t beat what you don’t understand.” She quit a very stressful job and started her own business. As I listened I immediately decided I would be just like my Aunt Dee. Would that it were so.

Silly me, I thought I could choose my Lupus. That was certainly not the case. I was severely depressed. Aunt Dee didn’t mention that. I lost my hair. She didn’t mention that either. I was mean. There were days I could barely dress myself. My weight was so up and down I felt like Luther Vandross. The medication cocktails either sent me spinning or put me on my butt. On a visit to my rheumatologist after having to take a few weeks off work, I told her the story of my Aunts and how their lives were so different dealing with the same disease. She asked me who I look more like. Puzzled, I answered Aunt Sweetie to which she replied “That’s why you’re having trouble”. That made no sense. Seeing my confusion she explained her answer was just a ridiculous as my assumption. Lupus isn’t a cold and it is certainly not cookie cutter. I needed to hear that.

With Lupus the diagnosis only begins the

journey. There are battles each and every

day but the war is yours to win or lose. The

first step is to recognize when your body

speaks you should take appropriate action.

Know what Lupus is and what it is not. I

pondered how to brilliantly close my story.

I thought of ways to get a good chuckle or

perhaps even a belly laugh. Then I realized

this is not the end. It can’t be but I will

certainly strive to live happily ever after.

Our Voice / May 2014 25

Thicks Elizabeth Carolina