And That Was The Year That Sucked
Apologies to my legions of fans out there for the lack of updates. This week was dedicated to getting over the stomach flu, taking care of two children with said flu, and shuttling the missus to and from the emergency room. Dystonic shock? It's what's for breakfast. Oh yeah, and I've been keeping up with my real job.
The missus has lupus, and lupus sucks. If you care to learn more, the very best resource I've found is the wonderful site But You Don't Look Sick. In short, lupus is AIDS without the celebrity cache. Pac Man runs around inside your body and chomps away at your insides, both good and bad. Once in a while Pac Man takes a bite out of your central nervous system and you can have MS-like symptoms. Or you hair falls out, or spontaneous bruises and lesions appear apparently at random. Lupus eats your soul but leaves a beautiful shell, so people wonder why you don't just get up and shake it off.
Anyhoo, for yet another year, the New Year's festivities will consist of agony (for her), hopelessness (for me), and half-hearted attempts at a comforting "No, you're not going to die" in a dark bedroom.
This is the part where you normally see the inspirational message. But that's not what I do. I'm small and petty and tired and I'm posting this here so as not to burden anyone I know personally. Thanks for listening.
And happy new year.
The missus has lupus, and lupus sucks. If you care to learn more, the very best resource I've found is the wonderful site But You Don't Look Sick. In short, lupus is AIDS without the celebrity cache. Pac Man runs around inside your body and chomps away at your insides, both good and bad. Once in a while Pac Man takes a bite out of your central nervous system and you can have MS-like symptoms. Or you hair falls out, or spontaneous bruises and lesions appear apparently at random. Lupus eats your soul but leaves a beautiful shell, so people wonder why you don't just get up and shake it off.
Anyhoo, for yet another year, the New Year's festivities will consist of agony (for her), hopelessness (for me), and half-hearted attempts at a comforting "No, you're not going to die" in a dark bedroom.
This is the part where you normally see the inspirational message. But that's not what I do. I'm small and petty and tired and I'm posting this here so as not to burden anyone I know personally. Thanks for listening.
And happy new year.
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