Being chronically ill can feel like a full-time job. The doctors are rude to you. They have to Google what is wrong with you, it is considered that rare! The doctor admits they get 15 minutes of training on your condition. So, no, they are not very aware of anything you deal with!
On top of that, you have to fight with the insurance company to get things covered. Or fight with the doctor when you ask for some new treatment. This disease has no cure; there is no getting better. There is just making it through each day. With the hope that something good happens. That if the pain subsides enough, you are not nauseous. No new injuries occur. You didn’t sprain both feet again, at the same time!
All while trying to stay positive. Self-care is another long task. By the time you work out, assuming you can that day, you need the red-light therapy machine. The massage bed and the cryo bed, because ice feels amazing. The physical therapy and lists of specialists, who keep you together. Trying to keep up feels exhausting.
The sick ones are the beautiful ones! I attended an art class with people who had cancer. They did not hesitate to offer me a ride home. My sister said, they sure are nice! Yes, chronically ill people see the world completely differently. The little things stop mattering so much. They do not sweat all of the things most people do. They have to save their energy to fight another day. Anger causes another flare. They learned to be kind. After everything they went through, it’s not just the people with cancer. The chronically ill think differently and act differently. They go all in for each other. They feel like they have to. I truly admire anyone fighting anything.
Not to mention if you have a family. You’re still expected to be a mother. Do everything a healthy person does. Or people somehow try to make it feel like your fault. If you just pray more. If you do yoga, only eat blue foods, and snort kale, you too can be healed. Meanwhile, we beat ourselves up because it is so difficult you want to cry. You can’t let everyone see you cry. Especially not your boss or your kids. So, you do it silently in the bathroom. Hoping no one sees you. Begging for no one to ask what is wrong. Except you would like a hug, but hugs hurt! Instead of counting your losses, you start to count what is left. That is what you work with. The pieces that are left. You assemble them like a puzzle to create a new life.
This was written by our contributing writer, Christy Granger.
Image Source: Pexels, Jona Meza
Leave a Reply