Why I Choose Easy Because of Lupus

Have you heard of choosing your hard? It’s usually framed in a way where either direction is hard (such as marriage or divorce) and you have to pick one. Well, I didn’t get to decide about living with lupus so I have decided I’m going to choose easy.

I don’t mean choosing the easy way out – there’s no negative connotation here for me. What I mean by choosing easy is that I do what’s easiest on my body or my brain so that I can keep myself safe and healthy, even if my choices look different.

What does it look like to choose easy?

This phrase stuck out to me one day when I was driving home because I was fatigued and wanted to find the easiest route. I wanted a way home that wasn’t too complicated or stressful. I was tired and hurting; I didn’t feel up to making tough maneuvers. I wanted all the green left-turn arrows and straightaways but none of the merging or high-speed driving that can further tax my body. So I ended up driving a roundabout way home that took a little longer but was slow and easy. My youngest son, a backseat driving question extraordinaire, wanted to know why.

I told him I was taking this route because it requires less fast decision making, it lowers my risk of being in an accident, and it helps me to conserve my energy. “But why, Mama?” Indeed, why is it so important that I’m cautious with every move I make?

Because I’ve learned the hard way that going hard does in fact mean I have to go home.

Taking the easy way with lupus means leaving room in my schedule for rest. It means needing people to regularly help me. It means not over committing. It means missing out on some things and not having a very clean house.

But by doing all of these things to choose easy, I can maintain my ability to keep going overall. If I’m running on easy, then I’ll ultimately have more energy for myself and my family. But running on hard runs me into the ground.

Lupus is quick to remind me why I need easy

Recently, I was invited to an event that is really special to me, that I usually can't attend, but this time I could. I was overjoyed to be able to head out for a cherished get together with friends.

I was thrilled to feel independent as I left early for the event. I was grateful to be there, surrounded by people I love, and making the most of our time together. However, while it was no surprise that the event went an hour longer than expected, the extra time meant I felt myself getting stiff and exhausted. The exuberance and adrenaline I had felt that morning led me into a false confidence that I’d be fine doing just a little bit more. I wanted to go full steam ahead.

Not quite two hours later, I felt the all-consuming “lupus sickness” taking over my body. I got nauseous and had trouble speaking. My husband knew that once I get to this point, I’ve just about lost control of the ship and he took over caring for our kids and home. I was unable to recover from overdoing it. I spent a rather delirious and difficult afternoon and evening in bed because my body seems to partially shut down whenever I push too hard.

Why do I have to keep learning this lesson?

What struck me the most about this experience was that it really didn’t take much to push me over the edge. It was just a few hours with friends, many of whom spent the rest of the day out and about with their families afterward without difficulty. Sometimes it hurts so see how hard and different my life is from others.

My line between easy and hard looks drastically different from most of my peers. And unfortunately, it seems to be on the move – sometimes cutting me off when I thought I had a little more time.

What keeps me grasping for more when I know I'm pushing it? I think it's hope. I want so much for my life. I yearn for joy, for fun, for friendship, and for the chance to keep doing things I love. This is why, from time to time, I find myself pushing back against my traditional habit of going slow and easy. The turtle wins the race in the end, but sometimes I think the hare has a whole lot more fun.

Like everything else with lupus, balance is key. I may go down hard now and again, but in between I remember to be easy on my body so that we can ultimately make it further down the road together.

What are some things you do to choose easy?