Somehow I did not understand what was about to unfold. The doctor reported the results of my tests. He stood up; we shook hands. Minutes later I was in my car crying exhausted and confused.
Many of us arrive at this point in our lives.
At birth we go through Somebody training. So do our parents––there’s a new Somebody in the house, smiling, crying, pooping and snoozing, not necessarily in that order
As we grow we try to live up to the Somebody training our parents and teachers gave us. And we get assurance from relatives, friends and coworkers that we really are Somebody.
Life goes on. We are Somebody for decades … until we inevitably find ourselves with a physician who tells us in frank terms: “You have a chronic disease. You are no longer the Somebody you once were.“
Your health deteriorates, it gets worse. What’s going on? The doctor didn’t say I’d get worse. I thought I’d be the same way for a long time.
You assume your doctor will continue to be available to help you. But the doctor’s responsibility ended. YOU are faced with what comes next.
It also automatically measures the deep and light sleep you achieve each night (an estimation, but useful for daily sleep logging).
Just what is next?
Well, life will never be the same. That’s the reality and nature of living with a chronic illness.
You lose friends. Some drift away and become a distant memory.
It’s harder and harder to perform daily activities, as you once did.
Establishing and maintaining intimacy in relationships becomes increasingly more difficult.
People have trouble understanding what you’re going through. Some don’t want to know.
You become self-conscious––more so than ever before.
There are cognitive changes and/or weight changes. Days become a blur.
Can others be expected to understand the exhaustion and fatigue we feel? Do they know what it’s like to sleep for 12 hours … and get up just in time to take a nap?
We take time to think back. Back to the way we arrive goo-gooing and drooling. Some stay that way, some blend in. Some shoot for the moon and make it.
But one day we come face-to-face with life’s lesson: our good health was only on loan.
Take care of yours.