The unbearable weight of being sick and well.

“I’m definitely better, but I don’t actually want to say that out loud. I’m worried that is the just the end of a cycle—and not really the end of this bout.” As I relayed the details of my most recent health issues with my mom—and scratched at the remnants of hives left of my neck—I realized that I’ve seen more doctors in the past week than members of my own family.

I scribbled a few notes for the book as I chatted with her that are by no means Orphic, but I’ll share them anyway. Ahemm. In the life-cycle of my own chronic illnesses I’ve definitely learned two things so far:

1. I never want to say I’m feeling better as I am most certainly jinxing myself.
2. I’m probably wrong about this, but I have come to believe that no regular/healthy person will ever fully comprehend the constant fear that I (and all “chronic-illnessers” like me) carry about getting sick at any moment. I am Atlas. It is the weight of the world to me. If you know me at all, you know that I am persistently and deeply worried that I will ruin things for everyone by getting sick yet again.

(See, I told you it was nothing profound.) Happy first full week of spring everyone.