I have lupus.
I have pain.
I have inflammation.
I have more than I bargained for.
Little did I know that one of these things is a silent, no, not killer, silent hacker of my life.
Last fall I went to see the hand doctor about the pain I was having just below my left thumb. He had me wrap my fingers around my thumb then bend my hand at the wrist.
Ouch, dammit. That hurts. 
He said he knew it would and the pronounced that I had something I couldn’t pronounce. Something called De Quervain’s tenosynovitis.
He injected my wrist with lidocaine and cortisone.
Ouch, dammit. That hurts.
“I knew it would.”
Then he put me in a brace and said “Wear it for 2 weeks. If the pain stops, good. If not come back to see me.”
I didn’t go see him in 2 weeks. Four months later I was back there.
He pronounced that my De Quervain’s whatever was active again and that we needed to fix it.
“What does fixit mean,” I asked?
“Surgery. If we don’t fix permanently it will be a permanent problem.”
I agreed and surgery was scheduled for three days from then.
I awoke from surgery feeling no pain. I went home and slept the rest of the day.
I found out the next day that not only did he do a release of the De Quervain’s whatever, he also removed a cyst.
At the visit to have the stitches removed I questioned him about the cyst to find out if it could have been the problem all along.
“No,” he said. “The cyst is from the inflammation and your wrist trying to heal which wasn’t going to happen.”
“They cyst was caused by inflammation?”
“Yes.”
That was enlightening in more ways than one.
I have inflammation all over my body. I am fat all over my body. I need a whole body cystectomy.
If I can have a cyst in one area that is constantly inflamed, why not my entire body? This would also mean I am not responsible for my size. Lupus is.
From the insane life of lupus patient Wanda M. Argersinger
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