It has been one of my bad weeks. No car wrecks or calls from the principal. Bad as in painful and exhausted. I wish I could predict these days and jot them down in my calendar, so that I was prepared. Unfortunately they come unannounced. When I try to explain how I feel I am at a loss for words. I wish there were more specific words for tired. I am familiar with the “new-mother-up-all-night” kind of tired, and the “I-just-ran-a-marathon” kind of tired, as well as the “partied-out-too-late-at-my-age” kind of tired as well as the “restless-for-hours-until-my-pilot-lands-and-comes-home” type of tired and probably the worst: “husband-is-deployed-for-months-worried-and-all-the-responsibility-is-on-me” kind of tired. But Lupus tired is a whole different ball game. It is where your limbs are made of lead and even with every once of will, you just can’t get up and even if you could you would then fall asleep in public places or doing important things, like maybe driving.

And then there’s the pain. The Dr asks my pain level on a scale of 1-10. What number would correlate with “I have considered amputation?” 

So here I am, noon on a Thursday, and I am just getting up and looking for breakfast. Being tired makes me want something carbish, (bagel, pretzels, crumbcake) but I know that won’t help. It makes me want a Coke, but my self-deprivation over the last year makes my deliciously sweet beverage now taste like carbonated lighter fluid. So here I am with a banana and a cup of tea. And here’s a funny story. One of my little darlings tidied the pantry and put all my teabags into one canister. So my bags of lovely british-strength tea are mixed up with some not-as-lovely decaf bags of tea. So, every morning is a crap shoot as to whether or not I’m even getting my one small, daily dose of caffeine. Like I said, it’s been a bad week.

I know that certain situations sometimes trigger my autoimmune system to get a little out on control, and let’s be honest, these last few weeks have been a combination of wonderful, hectic and full of germs. I could point to a number of things that might have led to this day, you see, today is the Thursday after.

The Thursday after the Superbowl. (yeah Giants!) But really “yeah me” for managing to get to 9:00 Mass, work my way through the grocery store, cook all afternoon and then keep my eyes open long enough to say goodbye to our guests just after the last exciting moments of the game. Big Whoop, who didn’t? But, this was  fairly exceptional considering Superbowl Sunday came after a 40th birthday celebration.

This is the Thursday after the first party of the year. I have been to many other 40th birthday bashes, but now it’s personal. All of us 1972 babies are turning the big 4 0 this year, and Saturday night was the first for my peers. And what did I learn? 2 glasses of wine and staying out past midnight makes me a lot like Cinderella. Now a late night out doesn’t usually do me in, but combine it with the fact that it followed a week of a sickly son.

We have reached the Thursday after surviving Dengue (rhymes with Bengay) Fever. Our little Harry was bitten by one of these creatures:

It’s just a shame that the mosquito that feasted on him contained a tropical disease. High fever, severe body aches, rash (we either skipped this phase, or missed seeing it,) nausea, swollen glands. It is a virus and it requires bed rest and lots of fluids. It also requires daily blood tests. So, it seemed somewhat conflicting that I had to drag my tired, achy little boy who was supposed to be resting to a daily doctor appointment that in all took about 3 hours to accomplish. And guess what else that involved? Me getting to sit amid the coughing, sneezing, shivering, sweating patients while I tried to drown Harry in fluids and bribe him to cooperate with the nurse trying to extract his blood. The only plus of this entire situation was that one can only pass Dengue on to another if they are a mosquito. So – I did not have to go crazy disinfecting and quarantining our apartment. I won’t bore you with medical information, but if you want to read more, especially if you visit anywhere tropical: http://www.emedicinehealth.com/dengue_fever/article_em.htm

And all the while I was playing nurse we had guests. It is the Thursday after 2 weeks of visitors. These guests were not our usual family and friends that we lovingly tour all around town, these were my husband’s boss, and the holders of the unit’s check book. My responsibilities were very limited, just dinners and discussions. The eating was delightful, the discussions were more painful. You see we are the “test rats” here, the first active duty squadron to make this all work in Puerto Rico. Now, a year in (yes, a whole year) we need to offer feedback about everything. How do you combine beautiful, tropical island in the same description as one of the most dangerous places on earth? I had meetings with all of our spouses, and the dominant feeling was that spouses and families should be taken out of the equation here. This is a hard thing to explain without coming across as whiny, especially when the view is of sunshine and turquoise waters.

And speaking of whining, this is the Thursday after my first School Board meeting. Let me re-phrase: My first Puerto Rican School Board meeting. My first School Board meeting as an upset parent. In 3 countries, 2 different states,and 12 different school between my 4 kids,  this is the first time that I have ever gone to a superintendent with complaints.  Through my constant contact with teachers, principals, superintendent and now the school board, I second guess myself every step of the way. Am I doing this as a mother? I know that my efforts probably won’t be seen before my kids leave here. Am I doing this as a leader among Air Force families? I do feel a responsibility toward those who come after me. Am I doing this for US Taxpayers? I know that there would be many angry citizens if they knew how this Department of Defense school was being run. I will save all the details for another post, but I know what is right and wrong, despite cultural differences. I also know that I am asking for an upcoming year of aggravation if I pursue this.

And finally, this is the Thursday after the youth soccer season. I feel guilty in expressing joy here. I will miss the wonderful coaching the kids had. I will really miss my social life on the sidelines. But I am SO happy to not fight 6PM traffic daily. And this coming Saturday I will not set any alarms. I have heard whispers of baseball and spring track coming from the back seats of the mini-van. I will cross that hurdle when we come to it. Just let me enjoy one or two Saturdays of beach time and some days of eating dinner before 7PM.

And so, I missed a portion of this Thursday behind closed eyes.  These are the days when I have to fight every urge not to dwell on what I couldn’t do, and appreciate what I did. Before school I hugged, I spiked hair, and I made lunches. When the kids come home I will help with homework and listen to their tales of the day. I will make something for them to eat and make sure they shower and brush their teeth. And then I will go to bed and look forward to the fact the tomorrow is Friday.