Here’s a new one, Mom. 20180321

Hi Mom. Went to the doctor (nephrologist) today. I know how you used to like to know how those went. Pretty good, since I haven’t seen her since July. I like her. She listens to me. I feel like we’re partners in my health care. She puts in as much effort as I do. She won’t do more than I do, but if I care enough to do something, she’ll make sure I get full benefit from it.

I asked her about my rheumatologist. I got a letter telling me so sorry, the doctor has passed away, please find a new doctor. That wouldn’t be such a big deal if I hadn’t been seeing him for so damn long. I’ve been wondering since I got that letter. I miss him more than just about anyone that I’m neither related or have been married to. But my nephrologist said that one of the office people came in and found him dead on the office floor and that was as much as anyone knows; they didn’t do an autopsy. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better to know. Now I don’t have to imagine.

I was talking to the doctor about the last year and you came up, and the fact that I’m not working anymore. I found out that she has cut down to one day a week since her mother died not long ago. I was surprised that someone had the same reaction to losing their mom that I did. Life is short, spend at least some of doing what you want to do.

Letter to Mom 20180305

Hi Mom,

You died late last September and despite our 60 years together I still feel like I have a lot to talk to you about. I miss that most of all; being able to talk to you. You were always my best cheerleader. I could bring you any triumph, no matter how small and know I had someone to celebrate with. I miss that a lot, too.

I did what I said I was going to do and stopped working. It’s much less stressful. And, dammit, my lifespan is likely to be somewhat shorter than it might have been if I didn’t have lupus, so I want to be able to enjoy not working. So I’m not working.

Life without you is just not the same. I still want to talk to you. And so this. More later.

Your daughter


I had a life-changing experience today. I got a pair of pants that I was able to put on and wear. I didn’t have to hem them. I’ve been hemming every pair of pants I get since I was thirteen. I haven’t been able to find any place to buy pants where they didn’t think that all petites were a size two. I’m officially old now and time, habit, culture and biology are all stacked up against me being a size two. Besides, I’ve been a size two; it’s not nearly as appealing as it sounds.