On Friday May 10th, I sat in the staffroom at work and as I scrolled down my Facebook feed I felt that familiar lump in my throat - something I get a lot these days, i'm such a cry baby - and began to well up as post after post from my friends and family appeared on the screen reiterating my update earlier in the day that it was world Lupus day. World Lupus Day is the one day a year that all of us 'lupies' around the globe unite with one conscious thought...... to annoy all you fit and healthy people and bombard our Facebook and twitter feeds with lupus facts, information, funny pictures, poems and yet more encouragement to take note of what we have have to deal with or even better, take a minute and have a quick read about it.
As I sat there on my coffee break halfway through the morning I was overwhelmed already by the response, re-sharing of this blog, comments showing their support and directions to the charity page. By 11am I had already seen 5 shares and reposts, that's 5 friends that had shared the information with between 100 - 500 of their own friends, that's 500 - 2500 that will have seen the word LUPUS in their newsfeed that day, 500 - 2500 people that could potentially have a look and see what it is, 500 - 2500 more people that will understand better how debilitating the disease is, 500 - 2500 more people who will care and know more about Lupus when perhaps they meet someone with the disease.
The point i'm trying to get across is that you may not think that your contribution of sharing or mentioning it would matter much, but actually you can see for yourself from the example above how many people you could reach.
Everyday we have to explain to somebody new what this illness is and how it affects us, everyday we are met with blank stares and expressions when you mention the word Lupus, everyday you get the distinct impression that people don't quite understand how serious it is just by telling them. I don't blame them, but perhaps they would understand more if they went away and read about it, for some strange reason there is something more believable about reading something in black and white than taking it at face value from someone you have spoken too.
I know at times to a lot of people i may sound repetitive, sometimes i can almost hear the eyes rolling in peoples head as i waffle on about Lupus yet again, but the reason is because there is always somebody who doesn't know yet. I can't impress on people enough how important awareness is, it's so easy to ignore the information or words in front of you and think 'it doesn't affect me or my family so why should i be interested?' I mean, we all have busy lives and our own problems don't we?
A survey conducted by the LFA (Lupus Foundation of America) of 1000 adults concluded that 62% of people had either only heard of the word LUPUS or had no knowledge of what it was at all and this is a country that is far more medically advanced in the treatment of lupus, lupus research and awareness, so can you imagine what results would be produced here in the UK?
When i first started in my new job, i filled in a medical declaration form to inform them of all the medication i receive, my medical history and how it could affect my employment. A few days into the role i was taken aside my regional manager who assured me she understood Lupus, the medications i have to take and asked my what she could do to help. This simple exchange of words blew me away, such a basic act from an almost stranger at that point, the fact they had taken a second just to say i understood, i know how bad it is, you don't have to explain - restored my faith that people can and will use an opportunity to learn.
Awareness is understanding, it's open mindedness and consideration of others, it makes us better friends, employers and colleagues. Just having that one piece of empathy and understanding or even just knowing that one fact when someone tells you something serious or important about themselves, can make their whole day.
If we could take anything away from May 10th, it should be that taking one minute out of your day to learn something new, could change someone else's day for the better. If we took that minute every week how many days could we change for people in the future?
Tuesday 21 May 2013
Wednesday 8 May 2013
A little history... Part 2
On 10th February 2011 exactly 4 months to the day i was due to get married I was told my kidneys were failing, or in medical terms stage 4/5 renal failure with proliferative overlap. This monster of a disease had silently crept past the basic medication I had been taking for just over a year and started eating slowly away at my kidneys. 4 months before my wedding I was slowly filling with fluid as my body refused to process the toxins out. 4 months before my wedding i was told i wouldn't work for a year. 4 months before my wedding i was told i had to have 6 months of a chemotherapy based treatment and my hair would fall out. 4 months before my wedding i was told there was a chance my fertility could be rapidly reduced. 4 months before my wedding i wanted to just close my eyes and go to sleep and wake up when it was all over.
After the biopsy and diagnosis i was kept in hospital to commence my first round of treatment the next day. I was moved to a short stay ward in probably one of the oldest parts of the hospital. It was gloomy and cluttered as i was wheeled down the corridor, i remember the dull yellow lighting giving every object and person a sickly jaundice glow. All the time thinking is this really real? Is this me lying in this bed? The infusion was a round of methylprednisolone (steroids) first then a drip and a friendly nurse with a bright blue plastic bag with 'Cytotoxic' written on it, out of the bag came a huge oversized syringe of poison... connected to the drip and pumped into me.
For 3 days after i vomited an array of rainbow colours, mostly blue. I remember my sister standing at the bottom of my hospital bed in horror. I remember the atrocious smell of hospital food that i could not stand to touch, i remember my friend Catherine bringing me lots of bubble bath and Lush soaps for when i got home. I remember the smell of the blue palmolive shower gel in my hospital bag that the nurse put in the bath for me, a smell i can't bear to this day and will bypass in the shops. I remember Chloe, a nurse who was a friend of a colleague, but has since become a great friend of my own, coming to see me on her break and stroking my hand, battered and bruised from various attempts at getting a canula in. I remember managing to walk to the Costa coffee in the hospital with Mark to get him a piece of lemon drizzle cake as it was his birthday, the same evening roaring with tears knowing he was sat in the hospital cafeteria eating his dinner alone on his birthday - a thought to this day that always makes me cry, no matter that over two years have passed and lots of wounds have healed.
I was released on Wednesday 16th and taken home, i remember the lovely Lynnie coming to see me from work with a great big Orchid and Betty's Macaroon's. I remember flowers arriving from all corners of the country, work head office, aunties, old friends, i remember i had flowers on the fireplace hearth, windowsill, tables, in my bedroom. They just kept on coming, i honestly didn't realise how much people cared.
Aside from my family and Mark, one thing that recurs most amongst all these memories are those of my friends, people whom i thought were and turned out not to be, people i knew who would be there and then did so without question, people who i never thought would be first to offer help and surprised me with their kindness and then people who just thought that they should show their face once to feel better about themselves, make them feel like a good person and never bother again. The old sayings are the best and when times are tough you really do find out who your real friends are.
To Fiona, who changed her day off to sit with me while they pumped poison through my veins, painted my toenails for me afterwards then fell asleep on my bed whilst watching The Lovely Bones, who held my hand in my mums living room as i sobbed at the clumps of hair in my hands 4 weeks before the wedding.
To Catherine, for the hours spent doing jigsaw puzzles, knitting and watching your Desperate housewives box sets, for the car trips to the hospital, bringing me edible food, again for sitting through one of those nasty chemo sessions and helping me eating fruit pastilles to help take the bitter taste out of my mouth.
To Kirsty, for the cups of tea (i still have the meercat mug and coaster!), the bandana to cover up my ever increasingly baldy head and for the spins around the hospital in my wheelchair to cheer me up!
To my lovely ladies from Links, Jodie, Hannah, Lynnie. I couldn't wish for better colleagues.
To fiona, Dave and a very little Lyra at the time- thanks for the tea and cake and Lyra smiles!
To Emily and Ben - the tulips lasted for weeks!
To Becky and the Kids for restoring some normality and treating me like a human
I could go on forever to the people that i owe a debt too, i'm sorry if you didn't get a mention this time but i'm sure there'll be lots of opportunity for a mention, i'm afraid there's a lot of backlog in this brain of mine... haha stay tuned..........
After the biopsy and diagnosis i was kept in hospital to commence my first round of treatment the next day. I was moved to a short stay ward in probably one of the oldest parts of the hospital. It was gloomy and cluttered as i was wheeled down the corridor, i remember the dull yellow lighting giving every object and person a sickly jaundice glow. All the time thinking is this really real? Is this me lying in this bed? The infusion was a round of methylprednisolone (steroids) first then a drip and a friendly nurse with a bright blue plastic bag with 'Cytotoxic' written on it, out of the bag came a huge oversized syringe of poison... connected to the drip and pumped into me.
For 3 days after i vomited an array of rainbow colours, mostly blue. I remember my sister standing at the bottom of my hospital bed in horror. I remember the atrocious smell of hospital food that i could not stand to touch, i remember my friend Catherine bringing me lots of bubble bath and Lush soaps for when i got home. I remember the smell of the blue palmolive shower gel in my hospital bag that the nurse put in the bath for me, a smell i can't bear to this day and will bypass in the shops. I remember Chloe, a nurse who was a friend of a colleague, but has since become a great friend of my own, coming to see me on her break and stroking my hand, battered and bruised from various attempts at getting a canula in. I remember managing to walk to the Costa coffee in the hospital with Mark to get him a piece of lemon drizzle cake as it was his birthday, the same evening roaring with tears knowing he was sat in the hospital cafeteria eating his dinner alone on his birthday - a thought to this day that always makes me cry, no matter that over two years have passed and lots of wounds have healed.
I was released on Wednesday 16th and taken home, i remember the lovely Lynnie coming to see me from work with a great big Orchid and Betty's Macaroon's. I remember flowers arriving from all corners of the country, work head office, aunties, old friends, i remember i had flowers on the fireplace hearth, windowsill, tables, in my bedroom. They just kept on coming, i honestly didn't realise how much people cared.
Aside from my family and Mark, one thing that recurs most amongst all these memories are those of my friends, people whom i thought were and turned out not to be, people i knew who would be there and then did so without question, people who i never thought would be first to offer help and surprised me with their kindness and then people who just thought that they should show their face once to feel better about themselves, make them feel like a good person and never bother again. The old sayings are the best and when times are tough you really do find out who your real friends are.
To Fiona, who changed her day off to sit with me while they pumped poison through my veins, painted my toenails for me afterwards then fell asleep on my bed whilst watching The Lovely Bones, who held my hand in my mums living room as i sobbed at the clumps of hair in my hands 4 weeks before the wedding.
To Catherine, for the hours spent doing jigsaw puzzles, knitting and watching your Desperate housewives box sets, for the car trips to the hospital, bringing me edible food, again for sitting through one of those nasty chemo sessions and helping me eating fruit pastilles to help take the bitter taste out of my mouth.
To Kirsty, for the cups of tea (i still have the meercat mug and coaster!), the bandana to cover up my ever increasingly baldy head and for the spins around the hospital in my wheelchair to cheer me up!
To my lovely ladies from Links, Jodie, Hannah, Lynnie. I couldn't wish for better colleagues.
To fiona, Dave and a very little Lyra at the time- thanks for the tea and cake and Lyra smiles!
To Emily and Ben - the tulips lasted for weeks!
To Becky and the Kids for restoring some normality and treating me like a human
I could go on forever to the people that i owe a debt too, i'm sorry if you didn't get a mention this time but i'm sure there'll be lots of opportunity for a mention, i'm afraid there's a lot of backlog in this brain of mine... haha stay tuned..........
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