Beep's Purple Blog

Finally, I have a pain medication script (vicodin wasn't touching the current bout of migraine + pain in every joint + pleuritis + costochondritis--nothing life-threatening, except for suicide or homicide being possibilities because this pain was OVER MY THRESHOLD). I took a pill. I still hurt badly, but so much LESS than before. I will be able to drive myself home after all.

I was supposed to see my primary care this am, but after waiting for 1 1/2 hours in silent agony, I had no more time left to wait, as I had to get a blood test by 11:30 for my thyroid doc to be able to see at my appt. tomorrow.

I was in a state of emergency and called a rheumatologist friend, but he told me to go take a nap. I only wish I could sleep for a few solid hours in a row, but with an invisible sledgehammer pounding at my head after breaking all of my bones, and something setting my lungs and chest on fire, uninterrupted sleep hasn't been an option for days now.

Neurologist gave me Ambien, too! I might sleep thru the night and at least put the major fibromyalgia flare back in the box! There is a God!

I don''t usually actually complain about having lupus; I share symptoms and info with those interested but that's it. But lately I've been learning that some people think I LIKE having it. Oh, riiiiiiiiiiight. I just love what it did to my career path, my financial status, my life span, my quality of life, and also the damage the meds have done from side effects to my body and to my appearance. Being a fat unmarried female in the US is just SO much fun. Surely everyone would want it.

And the idiots who think there is a motive to fake illness to get disability checks have not tried to live on what those checks pay and have an expensive illness, too. It's, um, impossible, so you either die or have to find someone to help you, even while your brain isn't working right, you are in so much pain you might blow up a building, and you look like some kind of horrific bloated alien.

I hate lupus. If it were a person I would put my hands around its neck and tighten them as hard as I could until the lupus was dead, dead, dead. HATE. That is what I feel about it. I just don't see any need to dwell on that, as lupus doesn't really care what I feel about it and why should anyone else have to hear it.

Now remember, sometimes lupus flares bring major depression, and I've got it now, so I'm officially on criticism overload. If you don't want to read my blog, don't read it. But sometimes I feel all the world is a critic and I've really had enough information about what I don't do perfectly to last several lifetimes. I'm tagging my entries; pick only the ones, if any, you like.

Ok. I stopped for a cold drink. I'm almost home. Not far to go now. I can do it.

Too bad I have to drive 150 miles tomorrow and 340 on Thursday.

Friday I rest. Come on, Friday.