The gifts of illness. for me... I know…I know
I know. How CHEESY! How Cliche! “The gifts of illness.” If this gives you pause for a much deserved eye roll, I am WITH you. I annoyed myself as I typed it. Plus, I have wanted to smack people who have said anything resembling this to me. More than once. Of course, instead I smiled politely and defeatedly said something as I sighed, like, “ I know, you are right.” But, what I was thinking was “ Bitch, you crazy! Chronic illness SUCKSSSSS.” Totally sucks.
At any point in the last 10 years of living with Ulcerative Colitis, if someone told me they had a magical wand and were going to magically give me a shiny new (or even vastly improved and remodeled) colon of my very own and erase all the years I have spent in pain and hospitals and surgery and missing out on things I would say, “ yes please” or, “where do I sign”. In fact, in 2016 my oldest childhood friend told me that her spirit guides were telling her if I came to Arizona with her I was going to regrow my colon. She texted me this while I was in a church lighting a candle for said colon in my ongoing, impulsive, ritualistic effort to move on from my grief and the impact the trauma was having on my life. I believed her and off she and I and a team of invisible alien doctors went. The gory details of that trip are for another time…but I’ll ruin the ending for you. Didn’t happen. Still colon free. So yeah, even if the wand was made out of biting, enflamed snakes, if it came with the promise of a well working Large Intestine I would shout; “wave that thing in my face already sister! Times a wastin!!”
There is no magic wand or pill or diet for that matter, there is only the magic of looking under the bed for the so called “gifts” all these well meaning, wise humans kept telling me were there and letting those change my perspective.
In no particular order:
I’m looking more honestly at how my habits impact my stress levels and trying to slow the F@*(!& down.
I’m learning to honestly like/love/admire/be in awe of (in that order) this body I live in that is pretty darn capable despite it all.
I’m deepening my faith and spiritual life.
OK those were kinda bullshit gifts. No, no they are all true and I am actually often consciously grateful for them, but they sound so..intangible…
so….
I met and married an outstanding human who stands by me through it all.
I have a righteously supportive family and friends who have lapped the hospital halls with me countless times.
I discovered a new career path that excites me.
I have a larger capacity and knowledge base to hopefully help others.
I learned how to surf. I LOVE surfing.
On any given day I can see the gifts or I can flip the rock over and see a pile of never ending shit. It’s a choice. It’s horribly hard in some moments and a grace-filled thing of ease in others. Its messy and bloody and I am constantly walking into walls, seemingly dead end mazes and tantalizing victimhood. Yet, if I am willing, even for a moment at a time, to let go of who I was and embrace how this experience wants to change me, then with each cut, each blow, each disappointment, triumph, invasive test, missed social events and surgery; more of ME leaks out. Despite years of believing the smaller I was the better, I am learning that more, in the me arena, is the way to go. Cheesy? yes. Cliche? absolutely. But, like I mentioned, there is no magical wand. There is only the diligent drudgery of rolling with the storms and keeping my thoughts on the possibility of what miracles lay ahead. Simply state? The gifts. The mother F-in Gifts.
