Thanks, Lupus. For the pain and physical limitations?

Oh ya. Now, I know many of you will be thinking I'm an absolute nut case. That is, if you didn't already. On the other hand, I am notorious for looking on the bright side, so you might be used to my crazy meanderings. But thanks for the pain. Really? Thanks for making me physically limited? Really? How so? Well, I'll tell you something. There is a bright side to crippling pain. In fact, there may be more than one. So, here we go. Let me see if I can put this into words.

First of all, the pain of Lupus is like no other pain I have ever experienced in my life. And I have given birth to 4 kids. I didn't scream or cry when I gave birth, but I have done both in the past with Lupus on many occasions. However, when you experience that kind of pain on a daily basis, something miraculous happens. You get tough. Really, really tough. Like, nothing phases you tough.

Yup. I can sit in my chair, typing away while internally screaming in agony and no one is the wiser. Pain can shoot down my legs and out through my toenails and I can carry on a happy conversation like nothing at all is going on. I don't pout and whine any more either. When I have a complaint, I mention it, deal with it and move on.

I also handle psychological pain better than I used to. Facing your own mortality will do that for you in a quick hurry.

Because I know that in comparison, the pettiness of life's little troubles pale in comparison to chronic illness in general. By experiencing the worst, I have learned to appreciate the small stuff, even when it's not so pleasant. And my pain tolerance is off the chain, you guys. Totally off the chain.

And oh my gosh! I have the best damn excuse there is for not doing anything with physical risks. There's no way that I can jump from a plane, bungee jump, ride any large scale rapids, go into battle, brave the world's scariest roller coaster or anything else that's the risk your life for nothing kind of stupid anyone can dream up. For crap's sake, I have a hard time with stairs.

People don't even expect me to be able to go paragliding or rock climbing or any of that intense nonsense, so they don't even ask. Which is great. Because, in addition to having Lupus, Rheumatopid and Reynauds, I'm also a big time chicken shit. So, Lupus makes me look a little less chicken-shitty. Ha ha ha Don't you love it?

I also can't shovel snow, go skiing, climb Mt. Everest or do basically anything physical at all in the snow. Which is great because I got enough snow growing up. Too much, in fact. My feeling on snow is that it's pretty too look at, sometimes fun to drive in, nice to make snowmen, snowballs and snow angels with and after that, you can pretty much keep it.

So, thanks, Lupus. For keeping me from risking my life for a cheap thrill. And thanks for the pain tolerance. I'm going to need it later.