one woman’s journey navigating a new normal
I work so hard not to let my illness and my various health issues define me. The gratitude I feel and share with the world is real. It’s sacred. It has sustained me many times when I couldn't see the hope, the future, or a place for me in it. Gratitude saved my life.
Each time our health worsens or we undergo another surgery, another diagnosis, we experience a new wave of grief. It’s death by 1,000 cuts. It’s progression within progression, one disease playing off the other. It’s Relapse. Remission. Recurrence.
The loneliest people I see are those whose child (or children) are battling pancreatic disease. Their faces reach me like a beacon of despair, their pain hits me squarely in my heart.
As my disease progressed and my symptoms worsened, I became a “frequent flyer” at the ER - the term some ER staff use to refer to patients they believe are drug seekers.
Doctors are trained that when you hear hoof beats, think horses, not zebras. The doctors I’d seen were looking for a horse, but maybe, just maybe, I was a zebra.
You Don't Look Sick Blog 