The Blessings and Curse of Chronic Illness

It's hard to separate the blessings from the curse of chronic illness. Take one of the biggest - the fact that it's invisible. I mean, people usually don't look at someone and say, "Oh, he has diabetes." Or Addison's. Or lupus. Or any of the others in a growing list of autoimmune diseases. Unless you have a loved one who has one of them or you're well-read on the topic, you probably don't notice the subtle signs that the person is sick. In fact, there's a website with a sister Facebook page called, "But You Don't Look Sick" at butyoudontlooksick.com. Not all chronic illnesses are invisible, of course, but I'm talking about the ones that are.

So, how is this invisibility a blessing? Those of us suffering with this rarely want sympathy, at least not from strangers, and we certainly don't want pity. If you don't know I'm sick, you don't look at me with sad eyes and a halfhearted smile, nor do you look away in embarrassment or discomfort. On good days I can go about my normal life without anyone being the wiser. Nor do you get unsolicited advice. That one drives me crazy. Sometimes when others find out I have lupus, I get all kinds of "information" on diets, procedures, and supplements that will help or even cure me. I even had one person send me a link on using a decompression chamber to treat symptoms.  

And the curse? Friends, acquaintances, employers, and sometimes even family often expect more of you than you can deliver. If you see someone in a wheelchair, you don't expect them to get up walk down the grocery aisle. But with unseen symptoms like pain or fatigue, people forget that you can't do everything you used to, or even that you can do on a good day. Hell, I even had the principal where I used to teach expect me to move my room (okay, the things in it) to a trailer after I told her the day before that I just had shoulder surgery. They're not mean or heartless, it's just hard for them to remember unless you complain. 

But there are clear blessings. I've learned to pace myself, to ask for help, and to be patient. I'm more aware of what my body is trying to tell me than I used to be. I've learned to advocate for myself and for others. I've learned to say "no" (well, sort of), and I've learned to cherish the love and concern of friends and family. 

I could go on forever on this topic, and I may well return to it in the future, but for now I'm guess I'm just trying to raise a little awareness - if anyone reads this. So, if you know someone with a chronic illness, and chances are you do - 45% of Americans suffer from one - remember, don't give them pity or unsolicited advice, just offer them love and support.