Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

It was all planned.  My husband would accompany me to the doctor to find out what all this lupus stuff was about.  We had already decided I must have the "good" kind, limited to a rash.  Seemed simple enough.

I woke this morning and realized I didn't need Jim to go with me.  I decided to go alone.  As it got close to time to leave, I found I was full of nervous energy.  I didn't really know why.  I had this figured out, right?

I drove up Summerlin Road, following my breath as I had not taken time to sit zazen. Then I found the sky ahead of me -- soft blue, some clouds -- and I remembered Pema Chodron's line about (I'm paraphrasing) behind all the craziness there is a big sky.  I found the big sky.  I felt these words come to me:  Everything will be alright.

Arriving at my appointment, the song "Nobody Told Me " came on the Beatles station.  I haven't heard this song for a long time, and I was already aware it was John Lennon's birthday.  I did not go right into my appointment. Instead, I listened to the song with tears in my eyes. I had no idea why.

Once I met the doctor, and she told me the news that the lab tests say I have the "bad" kind of lupus, I was sorry I had not brought my husband.  I was shocked all over again. The doctor had to concede that I had none of the usual symptoms, and she ordered more tests.  I made an appointment for two weeks, paid my $40, and went to my car to fall apart.

But I didn't.  On the drive home I started to feel quite calm. I realized I didn't need my husband with me.  I have coping mechanisms and ways of working things out when I am alone.

I got home, thinking I would collapse on the bed crying anyway, but I didn't.  Jim was reassuring. He said, "We'll get through this, just like everything else."  He's right of course.

A little while after lunch, I drove down to Lab Corp which is basically walking distance from my house. I dreaded the blood test. My history of having blood drawn has included passing out, multiple stabbings with my veins collapsing, and general misery. Back in the day I had to get a blood test to get married. The doctor had to take it out of my groin vein, after he tried several others.  Having blood drawn is my worst nightmare.

But Louise at Lab Corp -- she rocked it.  Had six vials filled up with one poke.  God bless that woman. Like a million times.

I drove home with a light rain starting, and I felt so...happy.  I spent the rest of the day grading papers and relaxing. Taking care of myself.  Making sure I keep up with things so I don't get stressed. Doing the next right thing.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these -- when the sky would speak to me and my life could feel like it's coming apart, but then I know it isn't.  I know it's going to be alright.

Happy Birthday, John. And thank you.