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She wakes at 5 am to her husband’s alarm for work with her eyes strained as the bedside lamp is turned on. The dogs stir, hungry for their first meal of the day and anxious to do their “business”. She stumbles and staggers down the stairs, tangled in puppy paws with her eyes half shut, the animals are fed.

As they eat, she uses the time to assess aches, pains and likely health concerns for the day. She can tell that fatigue is already present but not bad…not yet anyway. She puts the dogs out and kisses her husband goodbye for a long day’s work.

She is alone…again.

In an attempt to fight off a day of grueling exhaustion and after the pups return from the safety of a fenced backyard and all necessary “business” has been handled, she goes back to bed for a few hours rest, resulting in a tangled web of sheets and blankets as comfort remains ever elusive.

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The sun begins to peak through clouds and as the morning fog abates, the day that awaits looks full of promise…for the dogs.

Finally she rises near 8 am, with her slippers on to warm her cold aching feet and begins the trek downstairs once again with the dogs like velcro at her ankle. She stands in the kitchen, staring into space, the fog may have lifted outside but it continues to curtain her brain like a thick spider web of confusion. Finally she remembers that it is time for her morning pills and possibly breakfast if her stomach is agreeable today. She never really knows from day to day.

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The house is painfully quiet so she turns the TV is on in hopes of learning of overnight news and breaking stories. Eventually she begins to channel surf and the realization that daytime TV is lousy stings her like a slap to the face with an open hand. The TV, her only friend of the day has betrayed her again! She turns it off.

After much self convincing, it’s time to walk the dogs and then if energy allows it, a work out. Once the sweat dries, she rewards herself with a warm soapy shower that feels good on flaming bones and tortured joints.

With high hopes, she reviews a list of chores that await completion. Her hopes are quickly dashed as unrelenting fatigue now settles into every muscle and a morning full of labored breathing takes its toll.

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The couch calls out to her. She resists but eventually the couch wins the battle and she flops on it with a heavy regretful sigh, her body a mess of cramps, twinges, pangs and throbs. She opens her lap top, turns it on and checks her email. She looks to see if there are any new interesting blogs to read. The dogs are in a lump of fur curled up together on their bed dreaming of chasing cats. Suddenly, it occurs to her how tired she is. She takes a nap.

Upon waking up, boredom set in as the long afternoon lingers. As her chore list grows, she realizes her self esteem begins to shrink. Her emotions run high as her physical strength is drained. She fights off a quiet unrelenting sorrow.

She makes the best of it and turns on Netflix to watch a movie. Maybe she reads a book. Perhaps she’ll get a jump on her blog writing. Occasionally her friends call to check in. If she is lucky, inspiration will hit her and she works on her jewelry designing.

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Uneventfully, late afternoon arrives and her thoughts turn to the task of making dinner. She summons energy and strength. She turns on the kitchen light and pots are placed on the stove top, vegetables chopped and salad made. The dogs begin to stir smelling food and hoping for scraps.

The cooking and waiting begin.

Eventually her husband comes home. The dogs bark.

Dinner is complete. Dishes washed. The day is done.

Bones are weary. Joints stiffen. Muscles ache. Stomach hurts.

It all starts again tomorrow…another day of glamour in the life of active sarcoidosis.

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