#40 - The Fruits of Lupus

This day started as a bad one.

For me, that is... and Ms. Lupus was having a sick happy dance all over my feelings earlier today.

I have been staying up until 2 to 3 a.m. every night for months now.

It started when Ellen died.

At first I thought it was just grief, but this morning I fought mightily hard with myself. I feel guilty for this staying up too late thing. I am so exhausted by sunrise, I can not be of use to anyone in the Cozy Cottage. And my guys being the way they are, let me sleep and go on with the first part of their day without a fuss.

So I asked myself over and over again... why am I doing this?

Why?

Is it insomnia? Is it the medications? Or is there something a bit deeper going on here.

Of course, I knew the answer.

I was just ignoring it, because the answer hurts so bad it cuts up my heart.

I HATE BEING ALONE ALL DAY.

To wake up in the morning means an extra three or four hours of being alone while the guys are out in the world. An extra three or four hours to dwell too much on my life before lupus.

And without my Ellen there to phone call when the panic strikes... I would just rather sleep through the worst of this, thank you very much.

I really do feel awful today, physically.

So I was slumped on the couch earlier, praying for some relief from the bad pain and the shakiness from the fatigue... and I watched a broadcast about Siegfried and Roy.

Remember Roy?

His white tiger took a chomp out of him during a live performance at his theater in Las Vegas.

This guy is fighting every day to just try to stand up.

And my heart burst as I listened to him speak with profound gratitude for his life. Not the life he planned, he's only human and he has his moments of feeling low, but God is with him. He has the faith, and with that life is beautiful.

What has the accident done to him?

"I want to help others. I love people so much!"

And so he does.

And I cried some more, not for myself, but for the shame of wanting to throw the towel in a hundred times a day.

I pushed myself this afternoon to folding the laundry and putting it away.

I have been at it for five hours now. I have to sit and rest a lot because of the weakness. I have been in the bathroom several times to be sick... the lupus has been juggling between my digestive tract and my Mabel the migraine monster self.

And my darling just turned seven years old son, Little Bear, sets it upon himself to help out this afternoon.

Yesterday, he watched me call cleaning services, trying to interview someone, anyone on the phone, who can be flexible in helping a lady with lupus clean up the Cozy Cottage.

No luck so far.

Now this little kid of mine must have been eavesdropping and he has his little mind ticking away.

He comes off of the bus today and I give him a choice of one out of three chores I need done. He picks take the dog outside and get some fresh air for awhile.

Later I ask if he could fold his socks.

He does... neatly.

He is starting to have fun, so he helps me go through his dresser and pick out the winter stuff for storage and the clothing ready to go to a new home.

And soon I am totally crashed.

I make him a lunchbox dinner of cold cuts because Daddy is working late. I sit on the couch and watch him eat. I am too sick to eat anything.

Bear eats, cleans up after himself... and the next thing I know my kid offers to polish the television. I show him how... and then he starts scrubbing his toys... and then the totes... and then the bathroom sink, the tub, the shelves...

What's next Mom?

"Oh! You have done enough, Sweety!!"

But, he trounces off into the kitchen and scrubs the countertops, then the outside of the frig, the outside of the microwave.. the kitchen floor!

It's okay, Sweety, you don't have to do any more... my goodness, you have worked so hard!

More Mom!

He grabs a wipe and does a final polish on the sink and tub.

Why are you doing this, , Little Bear?

"Because I love you!

I want to make you happy!"

Oh, dear Little Bear.

I am happy.

Sometimes I am happy and I just foolishly don't know it.

Every day that I am your Mom is the happiest day of my life.

And I will never ever forget this.

Lupus or no lupus... my life is good...

Life is good with Little Bear in it.

I hate lupus, I truly do, but I see the son that is growing before my eyes. He is more and more compassionate with each passing day. His Mom has lupus, so he knows things little guys usually don't know.

He doesn't complain too often, but his heart is good and in the right place.

The can do, help out spirit of Little Bear is one of the fruits of this lupus.