At Least I Didn’t Have To Bend Over and Cough

So the conversation went something like this:

Doctor: So you need to avoid sunlight.

Me: Ummmm…

Doctor: Well, you don’t have to be a vampire or anything, but stay out of the most intense hours of sun. And wear SPF 30.

Me:  My outdoor clothing is SPF 50.

Doctor: Good! And take vitamin D. And eat more fish.

Me: Good to go there. Already do.

Doctor:  And take yoga. You know, exercise to combat the fatigue.

Me:  Yoga. Haha. Started three weeks ago. [I am so not telling her the yoga farting story].

Doctor: And we’re putting you on this medicine that should help with the joint pain and prevent damage to your organs.

Me: [Organs?!] So this is real. You are diagnosing me with Lupus?

Doctor: Yes.   

On the plus side, my wife smiled when I told her that the doctor prescribed more yoga. And my friends smiled (well, posted “smileys”) when I dropped the phrase “to prevent organ damage” on them.  And the medicine I will be taking also prevents Malaria. And the Lupus is mild at the moment and could stay that way forever. Or not. Apparently it is different for every person.

And apparently my anti-depression meds are working because after a week in which our membership decreased a few ticks over issues that keep most pastors up at night, I am sleeping fine and enjoying the side benefit weight loss over my earlier bed time and more even-keeled demeanor. About two pounds a month according to the ever popular scale at the entrance to our neighborhood grocery store. I want to meet the human behavior consultant who recommended putting it there where I swear nearly every single person who enters the store steps up on it and shakes their head and looks twice at the brownies that are on sale right inside the door.

Besides yoga, my other complementary treatment for my depression involves the decision to keep the abandoned and sick kitten that our middle son named Apollo, but who we call Wolverine. (Give you three guesses why). After three courses of anti-biotics and multiple de-wormings and some TLC, he has tripled in size and runs the house and snuggles up with me like he knows I need to feel a purring kitten close to my heart. And he does this a lot.

It meant more than I can say to have my congregational council praying for me this week. And checking up on me after my doctor’s visit. And to see the way in which they continue to grow in leadership and responsibility and faith. Especially faith. One day at a time one of them told me today.  Someday I will figure out what that means. One day, I promise.


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