On a good day... you wake up and you feel like the little dog.
On a bad day... you wake up and you feel like the big dog.
Today, I am that big dog.
Just getting screwed again.
Apparently, my flare is not over. Oh no. It is back with a vengeance today, and wielding a battle axe over my life.
I hurt and I am exhausted. I am swollen in several places but the worst part is walking through the pea soup world of fatigue... the world I want is out there, but I can barely see it, feel it or touch it.
Today, Fuzzy went back to school. His car pool buddy, our neighbor's daughter, reminded him that it was Book Fair day. I ran inside and gave him the last $15 I had in my wallet.
And, then it hit me. Oh crap. I am supposed to 'work' it as a volunteer. Oh crap.
I am in no shape to do that. I can barely close my hands, my knee is swollen and I am barely functional. I was pushing myself through the morning routine knowing that bed waited for me after Mom's taxi returned from the school run.
While listening the morning banter between the kids and giving my son the usual instructions after an asthma episode, 'Go to the nurse for a treatment' yada yada, I was running it through my head.
At school, Fuzzy was gathering his books when I told him I probably was not going to make it to the Book Fair. He burst into tears and begged me to try - my heart just broke, and I agreed to try, that I would be there.
He said, 'It's okay Mom.' as he left.
I went home and took my meds. I drank 2 cups of coffee. I got dressed. All of that took longer than it would take a normal person, I had to restin between each thing. I plopped down at the kitchen table and realized, I was a mess and really needed to just lay down.
I called my hubby for a happy word or two but he was in a meeting and couldn't talk.
So, back to bed I went defeated, in tears, and alone.
Well, not really alone, Hammer was home, still sleeping, but he would be up soon to do his schoolwork.
Later, when Hubby and I talked, he and I discussed that my dear Fuzzy would probably come home and cry and be angry with me.
Who could blame him? I was angry too... Hubby said deflect him and he would deal with it when he got home.
Fuzzy came home but was just sad. He told me he missed me but he knew it wasn't my fault, and that he hated the RA, but loved me.
Basically, if my heart wasn't ripped out earlier, it was now.
I am the luckiest mom in the world.