Autoimmune Disease

SURREAL TIMES: Tired Tuesday, the Day After Blue Monday

As we live in surreal times, I decided to call today Tired Tuesday. It is the day after Blue Monday, the official name for the third Monday of each New Year, which apparently, has been noted as the most depressing day of any year – not just one plagued by a pandemic. Surprisingly, I felt quite upbeat, as for the first time in 2021, I felt like I had a wasp up my arse, for the whole day, until I ran out of steam…

DARE TO DREAM Travels Beyond COVID-19 Where are you Headed?

At the first opportunity, I will be travelling again, as soon as it’s safe. I have various autoimmune problems, so I am not taking any chances. I don’t want anything else. Even worse, I could be asymptomatic, and the last thing I would ever want to do is infect someone else. My Bucket List is typed, …

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Autoimmune Disease: What factors constitute being on the Severely Vulnerable List?

Suffering from Autoimmune Disease doesn’t automatically put you at the top of the COVID-19 severely vulnerable list. However, certain medications prescribed to autoimmune sufferers might.  None-the-less, receiving a letter this week, four months after Lockdown, telling me I was on the severely vulnerable list – I wasn’t before – came as a bit of a shock. I have a …

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Sclero-what? The Scourge of Scleroderma

In 2015, I found out I had scleroderma. I’d known for a while that I might have it but, after the official diagnosis, it turned out I had it for much longer than I initially thought. It is a strange and diverse disease that nobody seems to have heard of, and it manifests itself in …

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When You Look Like Humpty Dumpty

I’m a Baby Boomer, it’s Lockdown, and I woke up yesterday with Mumps-like symptoms.  It’s unlikely because I’ve had Mumps. I was about eight-years-old and, surprisingly, I remember my Rubulavirus encounter quite well.  Wandering around in my dressing gown looking like Humpty Dumpty, when I was supposed to be in bed, for what felt like the …

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Steroid Euphoria

At the beginning of 2017, I was dragging myself around like a 100 year old tortoise. My daily regime had become pathetic. I would lie in bed until almost midday when, guilt ridden, I would rouse myself. I would eventually give in to my dog’s pleading I really, really want to go for a walk now look and amble up the road and back. The rest of the day would spend doing chores in between lying down on the bed or sofa and I didn’t want to talk to a soul.

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