My family and friends have accepted it as well. I don’t get the, “So today’s a bad day, huh?” comments anymore when they see me with my boat (aka: walker). They know. Everyday is a bad day. The pain is at a constant ‘9’ and the swelling means my favorite skinny jeans aren’t even an option anymore. People rarely make fun of me anymore. I guess this “invisible illness” is beginning to be visible. The only thing I had left was the ability to drive and now that’s basically gone too.
If this isn’t crippled, then I don’t know what is…
The scariest part is realizing I’ve already accepted it. I’m not angry. I’m not sad. I’m not even embarrassed anymore.
This is me. This is my ‘normal.’
I’m done trying to hide my boat or use it only when the pain gets unbearable. Why? Because its constantly unbearable and I’m exhausted.
Exhausted of pushing myself beyond the point of no return just to keep this secret. This secret that I can do more than I really can. That I don’t need you to help me. I can’t carry my dirty clothes to the laundry room. I can’t change my own sheets or cut my own meat or style my own hair. I can barely stand up in the shower for more than 5 minutes! I can’t keep all this a secret any longer and I need be honest.
So here I am, being honest:
There’s a lot of things I can’t do on my own.
Your 65 year old grandmother can probably do more things than me, but that’s OK.
I love being me and even though I am practically crippled, there is one thing I can still depend on being able to do…
I can still laugh and I can still have fun, no matter what happens to me. Even if I never find a treatment that works and I never gain my independence, I know I will always be able to smile and enjoy my life.