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| This wheelchair is in my near future, you guys. |
Still, I don't complain about my illness much
and for good reason. It challenges me. It keeps me humble and it also
teaches me what's important in life. It feels my pain. It empathizes
with me. I do, however, have a complaint about people who have no
such appreciation of their healthy lives.
I get up early in the morning with a
smile on my face. Every day. I listen to the birds singing and feel
so lucky to be alive. When it rains, I breathe the clean, moist air
in deeply, rather than complain that I can't get outside. When it
snows, I watch the flakes fall with admiration for their beauty.
There is so much to live for. So many happy memories to make. So many
awesome people in my life.
And yes, I also struggle.
I struggle to get in and out of the
bathtub. I spend hours sitting on the toilet, not by choice. (Sorry
for the graphic picture in your head.) I struggle to go up and down
the basement stairs to and from the laundry room. I do all the
housework, despite having extremely limited mobility. I crawl if I
have to. Git 'er done. LOL
I have watched my young, beautiful body
morph into something I'm not even sure a mother could love. I look
in the mirror every day and see someone I don't recognize as myself.
My hands are transforming into claws, my face is puffy and distorted
and my limbs are so inflamed that it appears I am fat when I'm
actually not. My skin has no elasticity at all. It just hangs there,
taunting me because I know I'm stuck with it, no matter how in shape
I get. It's not going away. Ever.
Sometimes I don't sleep all night, due
to the overwhelming pain. Instead, I pass out in my recliner from
sheer exhaustion during the day. But only after I have taken care of
all my responsibilities and quite a few of everyone else's. I am
determined to be an asset, not a liability.
When people ask me how I am, I don't
burden them with my hundreds of horrendous symptoms. I use the times
when I don't feel well to make sure everyone else is doing OK
instead. I am sincere in my concern for others. I keep an open mind
and an open heart, despite my limitations.
But unfailingly, unfailingly, you guys,
someone always comes along to ruin all the enthusiasm for life I have
worked so hard to maintain by bitching and moaning about some
inconsequential matter.
I am literally sick to death of young,
healthy, vibrant individuals complaining about every little detail of
their lives. It pisses me off. There, I said it. Ya, it pisses me off
that these people do not appreciate what I would give anything to
have.
I can't work. I can't eat properly. I
can't walk up a flight of stairs normally. I can't sleep. There is
not a minute of my day that is not filled with pain and suffering. I
look like absolute shit. None of that is going away. None of it is
within my control. None of it. And they're upset to the point of
losing their tempers over the tiniest problems one could imagine.
Oh, poor you, your favorite coat is in
the wash. What? That's just horrendous. You're out of milk for your
cereal? Perish the thought. You have no time for yourself? What a
shame. Join the club. Because in case you hadn't noticed, no one else
does, either. And some people have your kind of struggles on top of
being sick on a permanent basis. I'm one of them, but I'm not the
only one by far.
In other words, suck it up buttercup,
life is not a bowl of cherries. Everyone struggles. There are people
who don't know if this is their last day on earth and you're
screaming mad because your socks don't match? Get over yourself. Get
on with life. Slap a smile on your face and appreciate the fact that
you're healthy, would you?
Every day, I am thankful that I am not
one of those people. I am thankful that Lupus has shown me that
pettiness is a moot point. But ya, I'm still livid over spoiled, self
centered, perfectly healthy people who don't know how good they have
it.
Appreciation. Get you some!
