Before I start, I just want to reassure those of you who have been reading the blog for a while that this isn’t going to turn into a whiney, ranty, feel-sorry-for-me-because-I’m-sick blog, I promise. Really, that’s the whole point of today’s post.
I have been very, very sick for the past few months. Some days aren’t so bad and I nearly feel like my old self again. My old self with less energy, but near enough. Some days I am in so much pain that it’s very difficult to do much more than feed the animals and myself. I never know what kind of day it’s going to be until I get out of bed in the morning and try to walk to my closet to get dressed. On bad days, I move a lot slower.
To quote my doctor (who also suffers from an auto-immune disease) it is a pain that is humbling and weighty. It wears on me. In fact, I think I truly understand the word “weary” for the first time in my life.
Several of my friends have commented recently that they didn’t realize how much pain I was in because I was still taking care of the farm, running my business, launching a magazine, remembering birthdays, etc. There are a couple of reasons for that. First of all, most of the time I am here alone, and the animals have to eat no matter how I feel. This business isn’t going to run itself. But there is a more important reason.
I don’t identify as a sick person. I don’t see myself as someone who complains about how much pain she’s in. I think of myself as someone who can figure out how to do anything. An ass-kicker. An unstoppable force. It took me years and years (and plenty of therapy) to be able to recognize my accomplishments and feel good about them, and damn it! I am not going to give that self-image up without a fight.
Being sick is the worst because it can very easily rob you of your identity and your plans for the future.
I never had any plans for my life beyond running Juniper Moon Farm. Whatever was in my future, it was going to have to include sheep and goats and dogs and a couple of cows. I pictured myself out feeding animals in my 70s, exactly like now but with shoulder-length gray hair. (Isn’t it funny how when you picture the future, it’s exactly like now, only you’re older?)
Now that future may have to change out of necessity and it pisses me off.
My doctors are homing in on the cause of my latest symptoms. In a few days we will have a more definitive set of answers, answers that may lead to a solution for this round of auto-immune roulette. I am going to be taking some serious medicine to systemically control the auto-immune issues.
I’m not giving up. That’s not who I am. But- oh Lord- I am weary.
/end whiney rant
I have to say that I could not have made it through the past few weeks without the help of my mom, my sister and my friends. They have pitched in in ways that would test the bounds of any friendship. I am very, very lucky to have such a kind and loving support system and I know that everyone isn’t so lucky.
McPhee
Bennett
Alabama
Cassiopia
