Lupus, a disease that can eat away at you bit by bit, filling your days with pain and depression, robbing you of your strength, stamina, the ability to do even the simplest of tasks and, if you let it, your will to live. It can take from you family and friends. People, even those who say they love you, don’t like being around the sick. They can’t be bothered or they are just afraid of the unknown. So you are left alone, to deal with this monster as best you can. If your lucky someone will come along who will accept you for whom, not what you are.

I have Lupus and this is my story.

How many times have you sat, daydreaming about your soul mate, the one person who will love you forever, look beyond your little imperfections and treat you like you are the last women on earth. You even have a picture of him in your minds eye, down to the smallest detail. How long do you search for this soul mate? Where is he and when, if ever will you find him? When do you decide it’s all just a dream, that unreachable star, a “happily-ever-after” that only happens in storybooks.

It does happen. People do find their soul mate, their one true love. I found mine and it only took me 48 years. Of course he looks nothing like the man of my dreams. But the strangest part of it all is how we met. Let me share my story with you and in the end maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to believe as I have in storybooks and the “happily-ever-after”.

The date was early May somewhere between the third and sixth. The time was early morning somewhere around seven as I recall. The pain associated with lupus had not let me sleep. It was during times when the pain kept me awake that I found solace in my computer, a hide-away that took my mind off the pain. I found people I could talk to, from all over the world; men and women; young or old; married and single discovering we all had something in common. I loved the sound of a new message coming in. It was like the beginning of a new adventure for me. Oh, what an adventure began when this man messaged me.

We began our chat with introductions. Who we were, and why we were online at this early hour. He had told me he needed someone to talk to, someone to help him stay awake. He said he was an epileptic and had to have some tests done that required him to stay awake for twenty-four hours without the benefit of caffeine. I told him I would be his caffeine.

The time flew by and before either of us realized it was time for him to get ready for his appointment. I gave him my e-mail address and asked him to let me know how things went and he said he would. I received his e-mail that evening saying all had gone well and he thanked me for being his caffeine. I had to smile not believing I said that. I began thinking maybe I had made a new friend. He worked nights as a security guard so I was not sure when, or even if I would talk to him again.

To my surprise we started talking twice a day, in the morning before he went to bed, and again for a short time in the evening before he went to work. We talked about our marriages, both of us being divorced. We each had two children and we talked about where they were and what they where doing.

He told me he lived in Iowa with his mother, who was in poor health. He said his sister, a nurse, had been taking care of their mother but had passed away. So he moved back from Indiana to take care of her. I told him I had moved from Vermont to Florida for my health and lived with my best friend. When I told him I had lupus and what it meant I was prepared for the let down I had experienced so many times before. The “oh” and that sound in a persons voice that tells you, you won’t be hearing from them again. All he said was: “And I’m bald, next question”.

My birthday was the sixth of May and I was depressed, I missed my kids, and the constant pain wasn’t helping either. When we talked he sensed something in my writing, he could “hear it” in my words that something was wrong. So he asked me for my phone number. I hesitated; all the no-nos ran through my mind but I threw caution to the wind and gave him the number. A few minutes later the phone rang. I was afraid to answer, what if he did not like the sound of my voice? What if he was one of those people you hear about who is so nice online but when you talk to them they are something entirely different? All the “what ifs” raced through my mind, I told myself this was silly. If you didn’t want him to call then why did you give him your number? I finally answered on the sixth ring.

After saying hello, and are you ok, he proceeded to give me the lecture of my life. He told me about all the bad things that could happen by giving a stranger, someone I met on the Internet, my telephone number. Well, needless to say, that was our first conversation, after four hours on the phone he hung up with my address too.

The next day, I decided to go to the beach, a place where I could go to let my soul breath. When I returned home there was a note on the door, from the florists saying he left flowers for me next door. I assumed they were from one of my sons for Mothers Day. What a surprise when I discovered the largest bouquet of rose I had ever seen! The note that came with the flowers read “just because. …Bill.” I could not recall the last time anyone sent me flowers. I think I cried for an hour.

We talked on the computer and by phone, for hours. It was amazing, as if we had known each other all our lives. I could not hide anything from him. I tried, especially as the pain was getting worse, be he always knew. After a month we decided it was time to meet. He had some vacation time coming so we decided he would fly me to Iowa and drive me back to Florida. He thought it would be nice way for us to spend some time together. Of course my insecurities kicked in and I was undecided about the whole idea. Then a few days later the ticket arrived in the mail. The flight set for late August so I had plenty of time to get ready. Or so I thought.

I woke during the middle of the night in such pain in my right side that I could hardly breathe. I’d had this pain for a week, not a “normal “pain for me and just passed it off. This night I couldn’t, I needed someone to talk to. My room mate was away for the evening. I had Bill’s number at work, so I called him. He was on rounds, so I had to leave a message, in tears by the time I hung up the phone. I curled up in a ball on the bed and waited for him to call. The instant I answered the phone he knew I was in pain, he wanted me to go to the hospital, but I talked my way out of it. We stayed on the phone for four hours. I was concerned that he would get in trouble for being on the phone for so long a time while he was at work. He laughed and said he was the site supervisor and could do whatever he wanted. Besides, he went on, there are some things more important than a job. Eventually the pain let up and I was able to get some sleep. That morning, my roommate took me to the hospital and I was admitted. I was told I had an intestinal blockage that might require surgery.

My room mate called Bill. He called me, twice a day; I could hear the worry in his voice. I reassured him that I would be fine. Each time we talked Bill told me all I had to do was say the word and he would be on his way to Florida to be with me. Me, being me I passed it off. People just don’t drop everything and move half way across country, not for something like this and especially not for me. On June 30th, the Doctor told me I needed the surgery. My blood count was way above normal, and the medication was not working. I told him I felt great, he assured me it was the medication. I asked him to give it another day or two. He agreed, as long as the pain did not get worse. Of course it did.

On July second, I agreed to surgery on the July fifth. With the upcoming holiday, staffing for the operating room was for emergencies only. The pain was not letting up, and the tests showed a bad section of colon. It had to be removed. When I told Bill he said he would be on his way, that it would take him three days to get to Florida.. I was really scared and I just wanted him near so I agreed. During the night of the third I became an emergency. The pain decided to get worse, and they scheduled surgery. Even though Bill and my room mate kept in constant communication I knew there was no way he would be there.

My surgery was scheduled for the 7:30 am on the fourth. My friend said she would be there but when 6:30 rolled around she wasn’t and I assumed she overslept. They took me to surgery at 7. She arrived just as I was arguing with the nurse about taking my glasses away from me, I could not see without them. Strange what comes to mind at such times? She told the nurse that she would take care of them and asked the nurse to give us a few minutes. The nurse left the room, and to my surprised in walked this man who I knew instantly. Bill had driven for nearly twenty-four hours to be with me. And so it was we met face-to-face for the first time five minutes before I went into surgery. And me with out my make-up or my hair brushed! To this day I do not know what scared me more, meeting Bill for the first time or the surgery.

Needless to say he was there for me, he never left my side during my recovery, refusing to leave until he was sure I was asleep, ignoring visiting hours. The nurses quickly learned he would not leave as long as I needed him there and told security it was ok. When I awoke there was always a smile that made me feel so safe and when I was able to sleep I slept knowing he was there by my side.

It took some time for me to realize he wasn’t going to leave me, not convinced by his reassurances to the contrary. Through the good times, and the bad times He is still here by my side, leaving only twice when his mother past away, and his son graduated from high school. Each time I go to the hospital he is there, during every sleepless night he is there. His smiles keep me focused, his love makes me stronger and after three years I agreed to marry him. Bill jokes that it was the only way he could convince me just how much he loved me and that he was not leaving.

When I needed someone the most, a man came into my life, bringing with him the one thing no one can take from me. A man who I feel I have known for an eternity. So to answer the question, is there a “happily-ever-after”? I believe it with all my heart and soul.

Email the author of this story.