Hello Lupus,

In October 2011, I was diagnosed with you. I was 43 years old at the time, and up to that moment I had lived a life of pain and fatigue and mysterious symptoms that seemed to arise from a dozen different diseases. I was, I admit, tired and defeated at that point in my life. Tired of doctors. Tired of physiotherapists. Tired of supplements and over-the-counter painkillers and creams and anti-histamine tablets and straps and braces and long, long sleepless nights. Tired of punishing headaches that stole hours and days of my life. Tired, most of all, of apologising to friends and loved-ones for limitations I didn’t understand.

In October 2011 that changed.

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