Forgive me if I’m not super eloquent today, but some kind of Something Nasty is kicking my butt, alternately plugging up my nose and making it run like Niagara Falls. I feel like someone’s replaced my brain with cottage cheese or maybe a nice down pillow.
But I thought this column in the New York Times was too good to ignore. Loren writes about how, even though she is currently in remission, her UC never really goes away. It dogs her, like a shadow, sometimes barely visible but always there.
While in remission, it’s easy to convince yourself that illness was just a bad dream, a nightmare, and that this healthy, robust you is the real you. It’s easy to forget (but not really forget, just ignore) all the things that you have to deal with: side effects to drugs, friends and family not really getting it, the knowledge that you live with an incurable disease.
It’s hard. I know it’s something I struggle with every day, even though I’m not in remission and wake up every day hit full force by the effects of PSA. Sometimes a chronic illness hits you in places where you didn’t even know you were vulnerable, like Loren at her company’s blood drive (don’t even get me started on company blood drives and those stickers).
How do you cushion the blow? I don’t know. But if any of you figure it out, please feel free to let me know.