“Sometimes, I wish I had been sick all my life…”
“What!?!!” You may say.
Because IF I had always been sick like this I wouldn’t know any different. I wouldn’t struggle with “why can’t I do (insert activity) anymore?!” … and the multitude of regrets and memories I have when I have been much more active and able for most of my life!
I still. Even now. Think it’s intolerably unfair!
I am tired of having to just accept how unfair it all is…
Perhaps. If I was born unwell and with needles and IVs and wheelchairs and specialists, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid when there was yet another trip to the specialist. Yet another medicine. Yet another symptom. Or another time I missed out on life events or occasions due to illness. It would be just an ongoing story that I was well acquainted with and with no real alternative to long for.
But I wasn’t.
And I do.
I still remember and miss dancing, walking, driving, careers, parties, impromptu moments and so many other things too many and too normal to name.
I don’t think I may ever stop mourning their loss because I did them all and I took them for granted; like every other healthy person.
… Until I couldn’t. Until I don’t. Until I can’t take them for granted anymore.
I see the smiling faces of children who are used to injections and wheelchairs and there is a part of me that wishes “…if I was always going to be sick, why couldn’t it have been sick from the beginning…”
I wish I was healthy again.