Here is our very first Blogger!
Lauren has a wonderful blog. Be Inspired!!
Thank you Lauren for sharing your story with us!
Here is one of her posts.
This past week was busy with Christmas, my brother’s birthday, my dad visiting from FL, my aunt visiting, and more. I had no work to go to and was busy baking, cooking for family, hosting Christmas Eve, etc. I didn’t have time to be sick, but that’s fine because I wasn’t. I wasn’t even expecting to feel sick, and that’s a huge change.
I used to look toward family gatherings and dinners like they were a huge event. I would rest all day so I could spend at least 20 minutes at the table watching people eat (lack of appetite), or ten minutes playing a game with my family. All conversation led to open discussion of my afflictions and possible diagnosis guesses or whispered hushes about how I was getting worse. My family was concerned, I know it was impossible for them to witness me hitting health rock bottom. I was very aware that my health was the only thing to talk to me about, I had nothing else going on. Even though I was teaching, it didn’t really matter much to me at the time. I didn’t think about teaching the second I left the job, and I didn’t think about it that much while I was there. I was surviving, but just barely.
I took a lot of pride in understanding my illness so I could describe it to others in a way that made sense, but didn’t make them feel sorry for me. I could strike the perfect balance of strong but sick, recovering but not yet there, expectation vs. reality. I knew the scope of my illness, the medical terms, and the quirky nuances that would keep people interested. I was ready for the inevitable conversations with people I only saw every so often, but were deeply in the know that my illness was all that I had.
This year was different, for the very first time no one asked me how I was feeling at Christmas. No one asked me what the latest was with my illness or what my doctor said would happen next. There is a great freedom that comes with chronic illness stability. I was asked about our trip to Italy, my job, my kids at work, and everything else. My singular focus has moved so far away from health since being stable that the conversation has as well. I’m not sure if it’s a chicken and egg situation (who knows what came first?) with me talking about my illness or my family only talking about my illness only. I don’t know which came first, but it slipped out the window as silently as it came in. My illness was no longer the cloud that hung over me, looming around every conversation. My illness was talked and thought about as much as my choice of shirt was–which is none at all.
When you talk about the same thing with people for years on end it feels light and airy to talk about anything else. It feels like dipping your feet into the ocean and feeling the sand between your toes. It feels like nothing at all and everything is in it’s correct place. It feels like home.
If you would like to see more of Lauren's blog, here is the link. http://www.diaryofapotsgirl.wordpress.com/