It’s funny the difference a word can make in the way you deal with things. I moved abroad, changed the way I eat, and research all I can, yet I was never one to meditate. I now meditate and pray. I do all of these things hoping to find remission for my illness.
I try to keep my stress levels low and the health of my gut up, and I walk as much as possible. I do a few squats and stretches, and I’ve been doing dips and push-ups as best I can because my limbs are super weak. It seems, however, that the more I exercise, the weaker my limbs get. I can no longer unsnap my bra in the back, put my hands on my hips, or scratch my back without it looking like a comedy show of an amateur contortionist.
One day, my left arm stopped working. At first, I thought I was imagining things. I thought that it had lifted up and I simply missed it. Then, I looked at it just lying there and started having an anxiety attack. I had to remind myself to calm down, breathe through it, and focus. I spent about three minutes doing my best to both lift the arm, and not lose my mind. It was a long and scary three minutes. I joke about it (because that’s what I do), but make no mistake, I am still a bit weirded out by this experience. As soon as that arm rose, I called the doctor. I walked about all day, raising and lowering my arm.
Of course, I called my family to let them know of this latest challenge, which prompted this article. My mother is a Bible-totin’, scripture-quotin’, Jesus girl 🙂 especially since I got this disease. She said that I should pray for healing. I told her that I was looking for remission; but she, like many others, wants to believe I will be healed. In that moment, I experienced another freak-out moment.
I have become quite astute at recognizing when I am starting to feel stress over things I shouldn’t. I told my mother that while I am a praying girl, in my mind, it makes better sense to believe in remission than healing. To look for something that may never come can be very disappointing and depressing. So many people are in remission. I can look for this, work for it, and feel that it CAN happen. Mentally for me, this is just a better space.
I also reminded my mother that God gets a nod on everything that happens in our lives, and lupus got a nod. So, there is a purpose. Perhaps my purpose is to bring awareness, add some humor, and show people the things I’ve done. And if I am blessed to go into remission, perhaps I can help others get there, too. I don’t know. While I’m aware that the higher powers we believe in are powerful, I also know that if we can’t wrap our brains around the idea of having faith and commit to that way of thinking, it is a waste.
I can’t commit to healing, but I can commit to remission. I can commit to being a vegetarian, I can commit to meditating, and I can commit to laughing on days when I’d rather cry.
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