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Autoimmune Hell

It was just six years ago I was non-stop movement. From the time I woke up until the time I went to bed. My house was spotless, all except the boys' rooms. This is no longer the case. Now, waking up, means I must limp out of bed stiff and sore. If I have to be somewhere by 8 then I better wake up by 5:30 because it will take that long before my joints release from freezing up overnight while I rested.  I hate that.

My mind still goes non-stop. Always active and in need to move forward. If only my body could keep up.

Last week I was reminded of my father. He too struggled with autoimmune hell. His also came on in his 40s. He was a big and strong man. A man who loved his work. Loved being in a union and active in protecting the rights of his co-workers. He took pride in everything he did - then his father died.

I can remember my father standing outside of the funeral home in Evanston, IL. He was looking down at his extremely large hands in amazement. They were turning red and swelli…

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