The Girl Who Cried Wolf - A Column by Kristi Page

Sometimes I feel like the universe has a scale with my name on it. If the needle ventures past a certain level of good, it gives me a dose of not-so-good to balance me out. In January, I experienced an unusual amount of smooth sailing, so it was only fitting…

I remember when I was diagnosed with lupus. It felt like the world was somehow spinning too fast and too slow at the same time. On one hand, I seemed to be under constant fire from all angles. The fatigue was overwhelming. Adjusting to life while learning to…

When I was diagnosed with lupus seven years ago, I wanted nothing more than to be in remission. But I longed for it knowing that it would likely ebb and flow. I believed I would spend a significant portion of my life chasing it, and once I achieved…

There was a time when all I wanted for my health was to be in remission. In my mind, getting to say the word out loud and lay claim to it was the pinnacle of success. The ultimate act of defiance. It didn’t matter to me how long it…

When I was a teenager, there was no question about whether I wanted children. I did, and I wanted three. Even as a teen, I remember picturing little kids with half my features and a mix of my best and worst personality traits, each mini-me with my dad’s determination,…

As we start the new year, I’m feeling very introspective. This time last year, as I curled up with a book on a beach in South Australia, I felt the same way. From the age of 18 to 25, I spent every summer working as a barista. In my oceanside…

On the 27th of November, I turned 27. Waking up that morning next to my partner, Felix, felt surreal. It’s been six and a half years since I was diagnosed with lupus, and while I can’t tell you for certain what I thought my life would look…

As I stood across from him at the train station, his eyes sparkled at me. It was our first date that wasn’t really a date. We talk about it now and laugh. Both of us admit to secretly wanting it to be something official and special. But neither of…

Lying on the couch, exhausted, and face down in a slump: That’s my most lasting memory from the days just before my diagnosis. I remember lying there with only enough energy to turn my head to let my eyes wander. As I scanned the living room, my mind began to…

Lying in bed, congested, and surrounded by a mountain of tissues and toilet paper: That’s how I spent the better part of two weeks. It’s happened enough times now that I should be able to identify patterns and see it coming, but I don’t. Every time, it creeps up on…