This Lupus Life

I am the dancer and Lupus is my music. I want to make it look beautiful

Danger Zone

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Yes I have been absent minded. I have become distracted by all the pretty lights, so to speak. Let’s be honest, I was sick at the end of last year to a point where someone needed to call Kenny Loggins because I was in the Danger Zone!!

Archer keeps me feeling good about things. I’d highly recommend it to anyone that likes a bit of adult cartoon entertainment.

But seriously, there have been a few occasions in my short life so far where I have just had to sit in a chair and be realistic enough to accept the following.

  • I may have a relatively shorter life.
  • My quality of life is not gong to be all that great soon…well honestly it is already diminished.
  • I most likely won’t be a mother.
  • I will be dependent on my parents, regardless of whatever lies we all tell each other currently in pretending that I don’t already rely on and expect them to be round more often than an adult of my age should.

 

So there we are. I was independent to the largest extent I will ever experience when I was at boarding school and in my late teens. Good for me. I sit here now reminiscing on those days nursing a cat on my lap, a migraine and a hangover from a reckless weekend of TWO takeaway meals (naughty rebellious lady I am indeed).

My Danger Zone (HEY LANA!) is that grey area of my life that comes when I am faced with these ultimate truths and have to honestly admit that I may be looking at the beginning of the inevitable spiral that doesn’t have an exit point. I spent three months walking around with over twenty masses in my brain that were undefined. My folks live 3-4 hours away. My mum doesn’t like driving in the city and so won’t do it unless necessary and my dad cannot leave work often, due to the demands of his job. So my aunt, or cousins would try to come to the big Neurology appointments as the folks worried I wouldn’t ask the right questions, record or write down the answers or relay the information back to them as fully or as honestly as they’d like.

As if I was going to call them up and say “I have these growths in my head, it’s not tumours, but they don’t know what it is, just that you don’t need to stress.”

Yes, they would have stayed calm. Of course. I didn’t want to make a fuss until after my exams, because well I had exams and my folk get so emotional. If the Neurologist says don’t stress, well you don’t stress. I have the best one in Perth so yes, I tend to listen to him.

Yet when he calls up and tells me to be at Fremantle Hospital by lunch to settle in to my bed, I just may want to have a bit of a cry.

-Enter my best mate Dunsty.

He broke the chair, bummed my TV and harassed the nurses while my mum rushed up to Perth to panic in person at the medical staff.

After the realisation of how fragile my life is, and the reminder that we all die and for me life isn’t about seizing the day but holding on to it with dear life as it drags me through (please until the end of this week, and then the next, and et cetera).

Then I get a bit funny. I think in a passive, reflective and peaceful way about everything. I forgive, placate, contact all my friends, thank everyone and question my general directionality.  Why am I doing this? Why haven’t I done this? Were they really so bad? What should I be doing differently? How can I be a better person? What haven’t I tried yet that I always want to?

I have a basic bucket list, but I have pretty much ticked everything off a few years back and my goals are so small these days that I think I may just not have any regrets if something did go wrong in the danger zone. I want to be a mother, adopting children is my big dream. I’m happy to aim for my Bachelors, a day dream is a Masters and PhD after that but I don’t tend to think that long term. After a brief stint in the danger zone I tend to make goals for only a few weeks and I’ve only just started my thinking semi-long-term.

Most importantly, in the last week on Propanolol I’ve felt strong in my mind to commit to plans for the end of this year in a very realistic and confident way. So yes, the danger zone has an aftershock that lasts 200% longer than the event itself.

Call me crazy, but I don’t see another danger zone happening any time soon!!

Just one last Danger Zone reference because Kenny Loggins is THAT GOOD

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Author: Chevron Spots

I am in my mid twenties and fighting my battles to discover who I am and where I fit in to this zany, beautiful world. I was diagnosed with Lupus in in 2008. This takes up most of my focus, as I want to share the experience of trying to live with and rise above chronic invisible illness, so to speak. I would like to stress very much the information regarding medications, medical procedures and illnesses are discussed from my point of view, and with my understanding, colloquialisms and metaphors. I do not attempt to be legally and precisely accurate for the general population, rather I try to be emotionally and descriptively true to my experiences. I hope I can help in understanding others with chronic illness by providing one more personal recount of just how spontaneous and difficult these lives really are. One day I hope to visit every continent, climb some pretty high mountains, sleep in an ice cavern, marry a wonderfully understanding man, have children and teach more children. Mostly, I just want a simple life, you know the house with a husband and kids. Oh, and no pain.

One thought on “Danger Zone

  1. Pingback: Back to reality | This Lupus Life

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