I was suddenly reminded today that I perhaps have been a bit too cocky in my estimation of how lupus is currently in remission, patting myself on the back for maintaining at least some semblance of normal health and normal activities.
Yet I know this is not true. It's sunny and hot here in Texas, and I can't get out in the heat and searing sunshine because I have lupus. I need to stay out of the sun, and the heat is debilitating. I also have numerous seasonal allergies, and am taking decongestants by the handful with each change in wind direction; I'm in North Central Texas, but West Texas dust insists on making a home here. Or it's the moist Gulf breezes that blow up from S. Texas, bringing with it their own particular vegetation that my poor immune-challenged body can't handle.
I need to get up from the computer every so often and bend my knobby knees, rest my arthritic fingers and massage my craned neck; nearsightedness is a habit, even when I bring the computer screen closer to me.
So, when I posted on one of my many online lupus support groups that I had to be careful not to wake that old Gypsy, Lupus, or she would saddle up her horses and ride around my body, looking for sites to set up her campfires, watching them as they flared, burned down and smoldered, before she set off again for another body organ to destroy.
So, shhhhh. Don't speak too soon about being in remission.
Lupe just might want to prove me wrong.