Sleep is crumbling in pieces around me while the dog barks at the other end of the house. Since Rudy barks sparingly, it probably means he either hears a car pulling into the driveway or may be watching a neighborhood cat saunter across his porch. Rolling out of bed to the sound of the front door opening, I hear my husband and brother-in-law chatting in the kitchen.
The aroma of coffee brewing is still lingering, and my aching feet pull me toward it. Stumbling around the bedroom, I find something decent to wear, and my glasses. This is an aching, foggy, groggy morning. I just want to sit very still for awhile and wait for my coffee and brain to connect. Each sip wakens me just a tiny bit more.
Rudy approaches with a little white ball in his mouth and begs me to follow him to the back yard, wagging his tail wildly and flopping his dachshund ears around like a rag mop. He is so perky and zestful! Getting up to find a second cup of coffee, I yield to his exuberance and follow him.
I am praying that Benlysta will help quiet my lupus symptoms, holding an idea of mornings when moving and thinking may be easier again, and perhaps with more enthusiasm. It will take a couple of months or so before the new drugs have full effect.
In the meantime, mornings go on as usual. Slower and stiffer than I’d like, but they always pass. Most days, every hour that goes by, the pain lessens, moving gets easier, and thinking clears a little more. Not always, but usually. I choose to be thankful for that.
A few minutes at the piano, and thoughtful call from my mother-in-law checking on me after yesterday’s infusion. Soon, I’ll be joining her at birthday lunch for a wonderful lady from my church, having her 75th!