Taking advantage of some nice weather, I decided to sit outside and just enjoy the flowers and the birds. I grabbed a nice refreshing drink I learned to make from the Middle East, a good book and headed over to the comfortable chair. There is something about enjoying a good book with a satisfying drink in a pleasing and relaxing setting.
The birds were singing on and off, a fountain was gurgling in the background and the smell of flowers filled the air. It was nice. And the book was one that I could just get lost in, and lost in it was exactly what I did. The problem with getting lost in a book outside is that you lose track of the sun. And losing track of the sun is a no no with lupus.
And of course once I became aware of the sun, I had to move the chair back into the shade. That can out a bit of a damper on the enjoyment, until you get back into the book. And then you have to repeat that cycle again, unless you find a place that has shade no matter what.
I have a gazebo to sit under, but sometimes I want to just enjoy the outdoors without seeking the shelter of the gazebo. It’s a bit like being outside and not being outside at the same time. But in the end, I always find myself in the gazebo because it’s better than pushing things with lupus too far.
Today I guess I wasn’t as careful as I thought. The evidence is on my face, a lovely butterfly rash, swelling in my feet and hands and an incredible stiffness all throughout my body. And that’s just the beginning of the price I will pa for getting lost in the book and the mood outside.
I didn’t notice the rash, and until I got up to walk I wasn’t aware of the swelling and stiffness. Beloved’s comment to me today, when I saw him was “your face is red, really red”. That’s when I knew I wasn’t as careful as I had thought.
Its funny really how I can ignore things, downplay the symptoms until someone points out the obvious. Once I was informed my face was red I was aware of it. I could see the swelling which is weird because I could see that before, but I just didn’t.
Beloved, thankfully, helps me through moments. No lectures, no sighs or rolling of eyes. I guess he understands that sometimes the need to be normal, that sometimes the desire to just enjoy, is overwhelming. He simply gets me through the worst of it, finds a way to make the gazebo more like being without it and tells me I don’t have to be that tough.