Living with lupus and surviving motherhood. General life, crimes, home and home adventures with a chronic illness
Showing posts with label trauma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trauma. Show all posts
Tuesday, 7 January 2014
Plagued by illness
I know that in life there will be sickness, devastation, disappointments, heartache - it's a given. What's not a given is the way you choose to get through it all. If you look hard enough, you can always find the bright side. - Rashida Jones
I know from personal experience, that when you suffer from a chronic or rare condition, you are faced with questions, challenges and comments about your illness and your capabilities on a daily basis, be it by those generally interested, making sense of all the information or by misplaced sentiment. At the other end of the spectrum you are faced with those who simply avoid any association with you, or someone else who is ill or suffering.
Sunday, 15 December 2013
Christmas Spirit
As we race towards Christmas with the speed and energy of a Meatloaf power ballad i'm confronted by the fact I've survived another year on this planet and moreso in the best (as far as i'm limited) of health and stress free in a long time.
When you go through a traumatic illness, accident or life changing experience I like to say that it opens your eyes to the truth of what people go through, makes you a far less selfish person but of course I can only speak for myself.
I'm astounded at how easily I notice the shadows of hurt flickering behind peoples eyes. Sad stories playing on loop and transmitting silently to another through tone of voice, eye contact or a subtle smile that doesn't quite break across the cheeks.
Everybody has a sad tale to tell, some more than others. But those who have encountered utter pain need not speak a word, you will be read and understood.
Since my immune system has gone haywire, you'd hazard a guess that with nearly 4 years of regular hospital visits, stays and appointments I would be immune to the routine of going for my consultations and would treat it with the nonchalance of fern cotton presenting Glasto. But no, far from a party in the mud and more like going back 18 years to the night before your A level results (or BTEC advanced if you were anything like me and found academia like wading through a swamp)
The trouble with me is that I have an overwhelming desire to care far too much about everything. Despite my husbands demands that I should 'not give a shiny what's sometimes i'm afraid it's just built in. So with a looming hospital appointments this week, my overactive imagination steps in and that suppressed but ever present thought of 'what if something isn't ok this time' starts doing it's little dance around my brain. I ask for those that can see those invisible signs, just to smile and reconsider your actions, don't say those words of contempt, push past me in the busy shops or judge me because I'm a little bit quieter and more tired. It makes my day that little easier, you should know. You've been there too.
When you go through a traumatic illness, accident or life changing experience I like to say that it opens your eyes to the truth of what people go through, makes you a far less selfish person but of course I can only speak for myself.
I'm astounded at how easily I notice the shadows of hurt flickering behind peoples eyes. Sad stories playing on loop and transmitting silently to another through tone of voice, eye contact or a subtle smile that doesn't quite break across the cheeks.
Everybody has a sad tale to tell, some more than others. But those who have encountered utter pain need not speak a word, you will be read and understood.
Since my immune system has gone haywire, you'd hazard a guess that with nearly 4 years of regular hospital visits, stays and appointments I would be immune to the routine of going for my consultations and would treat it with the nonchalance of fern cotton presenting Glasto. But no, far from a party in the mud and more like going back 18 years to the night before your A level results (or BTEC advanced if you were anything like me and found academia like wading through a swamp)
The trouble with me is that I have an overwhelming desire to care far too much about everything. Despite my husbands demands that I should 'not give a shiny what's sometimes i'm afraid it's just built in. So with a looming hospital appointments this week, my overactive imagination steps in and that suppressed but ever present thought of 'what if something isn't ok this time' starts doing it's little dance around my brain. I ask for those that can see those invisible signs, just to smile and reconsider your actions, don't say those words of contempt, push past me in the busy shops or judge me because I'm a little bit quieter and more tired. It makes my day that little easier, you should know. You've been there too.
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