So i just started on a new drug Methotrexate, i’ve already dealt with some crazy interactions from other meds and it seems this one interacts with the azathariprine. I often wish i had savored the moments and years before the diagnosis. Its sometimes hard looking back at pictures where make up was not required and utter fatigue was not apparent. anyways i shall wait to speak with my doctor, the derm, the rheum, and pharmacy before i leave…

I’ve been watching Anne of Green Gables for quite sometime now, it makes one wonder does romance still exist? Is it really out there? The term romance itself refers to a "fascination or attraction" to another. At one or two times in my life i felt this, so called romance, like a faint breeze or a quiet whisper. I know its out there. Those who have felt the shear force of it do tell. Did you sacrifice for it? Was it worth the trouble?

This poem has been my favorite for years, for both is simplicity and its ability to say exactly how i feel. It represents me, and it understands me. If you don’t understand it the first time, twice shall do the trick.

I took my heart in my hand
(O my love, O my love),
I said: Let me fall or stand,
Let me live or die,
But this once hear me speak-
(O my love, O my love)-
Yet a woman’s words are weak;
You should speak, not I.

You took my heart in your hand
With a friendly smile,
With a critical eye you scanned,
Then set it down,
And said: It is still unripe,
Better wait a while;
Wait while the skylarks pipe,
Till the corn grows brown

As you set it down it broke-
Broke, but I did not wince;
I smiled at the speech you spoke,
At your judgment that I heard:
But I have not often smiled
Since then, nor questioned since,
Nor cared for corn-flowers wild,
Nor sung with the singing bird.

I take my heart in my hand,
O my God, O my God,
My broken heart in my hand:
Thou hast seen, judge Thou
My hope was written on sand,
O my God, O my God:
Now let Thy judgment stand-
Yea, judge me now

This contemned of a man,
This marred one heedless day,
This heart take Thou to scan
Both within and without:
Refine with fire its gold,
Purge Thou its dross away-
Yea, hold it in Thy hold,
Whence none can pluck it out.

I take my heart in my hand-
I shall not die, but live-
Before Thy face I stand;
I, for Thou callest such:
All that I have I bring,
All that I am I give,
Smile Thou and I shall sing,
But shall not question much.

met with the doctor today, seems i will be discharged pretty soon. kind of worried about my job. but we take one day at a time. anyways its snowing here, its beautiful and whats wonderful is that i’m inside beside the heater. its a beautiful day

Lately i’ve been feeling that my brain is going faster than my mouth. The catch-up is the hardest. It may sound proposterous but i just can’t seem to get enough of the amout of ideas from my head out through my mouth. when you stuck in a hospital, such as i, you discover things about yourself that you’ve never known. Abilities and adaptations that you never though you would be capable of. anyways these are my thoughts for this morning…

Treatments can really suck, esp. when they don’t work. Doctors keep changing the meds hoping one will work and its like this rollercoaster or teetertotter, you go up and down. you have good days and bad days, flare ups and no flare ups. it sucks. Many dermatologists have seen me, many docs have seen me. Everyone’s trying to fix me but Lupus is not something that can be fixed. I just wish they would get it into their thick skulls these two principals:

1. Lupus is incurable its autoimmune meaning its in my DNA. No treatment/ medication unless its a miracle sent from God, will cure it.
2. Read the fricken chart!!!!! I hate telling the same fricken sad story about how got this butterfly rash. I mean my goodness they’re holding the damn chart in their hand. All they have to do crack the book and they’ll get a full history, but they depend on me to tell them it everytime. my goodness imagine if i wasn’t cognitive? Then where would we be?

I had a conversation at the breakfast table with a friend of mine. She mentioned her son and is difficulty with fine motor skills such as drawing. And his high unshaken belief that he too was "spider-man."  Her son seem exasperated that "spiderman" could not color in the lines. Hearing this, his mother said said, "honey, why do you feel you have to color in the lines."

Sometimes God sends us little ones such as this 7 years old to understand the bigger lessons in life. They teach us that theres nothing wrong with being different and we should continue to pursue that belief….even if it is spiderman.

Stigma (whether mental, sickness, age or gender) only have the power when you give them that power. Someone once said to me and i quote….

"Its only a stigma if you accept it. You don’t need to own a stigma that you don’t accept.You can choose to look down on yourself, or to feel sad for any of those who look down on you. We have all been created special, every last one of us.Don’t let either of these illnesses get the best of you except momentarily. And then catch yourself and take charge."

from a dear friend

"Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The trouble-makers. The round heads in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. But the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do. "

Jack Kerouac

"Don’t be racist with your laundry, forget about separating darks and whites."

Inspired by my laundry…