Fly, Fly Away

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She looked up from her place in the wheelchair when I walked through the door, tears staining her face.

“Oh, no. Why are you crying?” But I didn’t have to ask. I already knew.

“I am tired of hurting, Doc.”

I knew she was suffering. Since her lupus diagnosis two years ago her life had crumbled. She had been a vibrant, funny, joyful young woman.

Now she was a shell of her former self.

Bloated with an over 100 pound weight gain from the steroids. Hair falling out. Disfiguring skin rashes. In and out of the hospital with infections and blood clots. Kidney damage. Lung involvement. Losing her vision. She was in so much pain that she was wheelchair confined and maxed out on opiates.

We could find NO medication that could bring her disease under control.

She had a physician from every known specialty. Coordinating visits was a challenge especially as her eyesight was failing. Friends stopped coming around and offering to help. A teenage daughter, was falling apart under the weight of raising herself and the baby and caring for her mother.

“I just want to stop hurting…” she said again as big, fat tears continued to roll down her face.

“I am so sorry.” I hugged her. Gently. I didn’t want to hurt her.

I have nothing left to offer.

Nothing left.

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130 thoughts on “Fly, Fly Away

  1. Pingback: Suffering and compassion | Out of the Rabbit Hole

  2. Lupus. My grandmother had Lupus. Back when they thought it was just something hypochondriacs (translation, women) conjured up to get attention. We’ve had other brushes with Lupus in our family. It’s nasty, insidious agony. I hope your patient finds peace soon.

    Liked by 1 person

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