Tallahassee in the Spring, Pt. 2

I woke up one morning freezing and safe to say, delirious. October in Florida still equaled eighty degree temperatures but tell me why I am rummaging through my sock drawer trying to find my third pair of Betty Boop socks to cover my feet? My feet felt like bricks of ice. I turned the heat up to ninety. I went back to my closet and put on a tank top, a long sleeved t-shirt and a hoodie in addition to the long johns and jogging pants that I had on. I remember just getting back under my covers praying that whatever "this" was, it would be over soon.

The next morning was a doctor's appointment and pretty soon, the appointments were coming fast and furious. My poor doctors, haha. I can laugh now but honey, when I was going through it, I wanted to snatch that stethoscope from around their necks, pound on the bottom of it and scream, "yoo-hoo, is anyone there?" My physicians were concerned but their hands were tied because they didn't have a clue as to how to treat lupus. I remember Dr. W coming into the exam room and standing about three feet from me. She said, "my goodness, I can feel the heat emitting from your body." Heck, by the end of my visit, I thought I was going to have to resuscitate her. Poor thing. She probably wanted to be somewhere walking her goldfish versus looking up in my face.

Work was becoming a near death experience. Each morning, I would use my apartment hallway's walls to guide me to my bathroom. I used anything sturdy to lean on as I got dressed. It was bad. I would get to work and my supervisor would take my hand and lead me right back to my car. Sometimes I would insist that I was "ok" but by lunchtime she was demanding that I leave my desk and go home. I've always said that God protects fools and babies. My supervisor will always, always have a place in my heart. So many people say their employers don't understand lupus and were treated poorly once it was revealed they had lupus. My experience was totally different. My experience was nothing short of miracles that were crafted by God.

My rheumatologist told and not suggested that my last day of work be December 2, 2008. I'm sure that took weight off of my supervisor. She didn't have to cut me off in the parking lot and make me go back home. While I was on bedrest-and still refusing to my family in Michigan-my team of about 25 people at work took up a collection that totaled more than $300 plus a $50 Target gift card for me. I was floored, truly floored, for two reasons. Like my mama said, charity begins at home and spreads abroad. She always encouraged me to do good by people no matter the circumstances and when I needed it, God's grace would kick in on my life. My mama was right, per usual. It was a bit overwhelming that people thought enough to come out of their pockets like that for me. Little ole, sick and spotty faced me. Wow.

Secondly, I had only known my co-workers since April and they were genuinely concerned about me. They would come by my place and bring me food, get my prescriptions, make me laugh, just whatever I needed would get done. No questions asked. One of my co-worker's brought his wife and kids by my apartment. That was very heartwarming because this world can be very 'every man for themselves' and for a whole family to come by, I was thankful. Once again, by the grace of God, that wasn't my story.

My breaking point came when I wasn't responding to treatment that the rheumatologist recommended. I was sitting in the exam room and he was looking at me and rubbing his chin. I'm sitting on the exam table, watching him rub his chin and waiting on him to say something miraculous. The miraculous statement didn't come. Instead, he told me to go to Michigan to be with my family. Then, he helped me to my feet, patted me on my back and said "good luck". Yes, those were his parting words to me. "Good luck". So what did 'good luck' mean? Would I last til suppertime? Or should I be read my last rites? I don't know how I made it home after that appointment. I think it involved waiting in my car for my neighbor to arrive so he could help me up the steps to my apartment. Lupus is bitch like that.

Later on that night, I remember this clearly, I was sitting on my couch. I had taken my lupus meds and on top of that I took some over the counter medicine to fight a cold. Then, I decided to call my mother. Terrible mistake. I felt myself talking incoherently about horses and dressers. She let out a shrill scream that I can hear still to this day. It was a scream that said to me that she had lost her child. I was scared but kept my mouth shut because I wanted so badly to talk about trolls but she was screaming. She said she was on her way to me. I told her no and I was going to sleep and then, I hung up. I was tired (high of meds).

Then, as if I hadn't caused enough damage, I decided to text my cousin. The text read "Weng Weng Facebook dresser midget". He and I laugh about it to this day. He said "I looked at the text and rolled back over and went to sleep. I thought you were out of your mind." I keep that text saved in my pink phone. It wasn't funny at the time but it the text is hilarious to me now. As far as my mama went, I remember Jeopardy being on meaning it was about 7 pm. The last flight for Tallahassee left about 7:30. Of course, all of this was reasoned once I sobered up, later that night. I called her back and explained that cocktail of drugs that I had ingested. She was calmer but she asked when I was coming home. The gig was up. I was on a plane to home and healing that next week. I didn't know exactly what was going to happen but I did know that everything was going to be alright.