I’ve written a little in the past about the
similarities I find between coming to terms with a chronic illness diagnosis
and the stages of grief. It’s been on my mind again recently for different
reasons: the idea that just as grief rears its weepy head every so often so
does the same feeling of loss that comes with having an incurable illness.
Lately I’ve been missing my beloved Grandmother quite a bit and
recalling how I felt when she passed away.
*I didn’t at any point say this blog was going to be a rollercoaster of
non-stop fun so get off now I’ve you’re not tall enough to come on this ride*
My sweet Granny Peggy died when I was in my early twenties. I was in
the first flush of romance with my first ‘proper’ boyfriend and heading on a holiday.
She died in hospital, I was there, thankfully, along with the rest of our close
family. She was ‘ready to go’; she told me as much many times, and now that I’m
older I understand why a little more; then I just couldn’t bear to hear the
words. I didn’t want her to go and selfishly wouldn’t so much as contemplate
the thought, choosing instead to do everything aside from putting my fingers in
my ears shouting “LA LA LA” to avoid the conversation. She wasn’t being selfish;
she was just tired.
My Gran was my salve. We lived in the flat downstairs from her for many
years, the whole of my childhood in fact, and she was a safe bosom to run to
whenever I felt overwhelmed, sad or just needed someone other than a parent to
listen to my childish nonsense. What I always remember most about my Gran was
her sense of humour, she laughed a lot and loved to hear us laugh. She loved to
throw me back and give me ‘French kisses’ (her version of this was just pecking
my neck until I giggled and wriggled away like a happy eel), we danced around
her kitchen a lot and she let me draw on almost all of her treasured possessions.
I wrote her poems and stories and she lauded them all with praise worthy of a Pulitzer.
So reminisce aside what does all of this have to do with Crohn’s Disease?
Well the grieving I do every so often for my Grandmother feels painfully
similar to the grieving I do for my life pre-Crohn’s. Right now I’m flaring and
feel decidedly awful most of the time; when this happens it sends me into a
flurry of anxiety. I worry about how long this will last, how it will be
remedied, what adjustments I must make to my life and what it must feel to live
with or be around a person such as myself struggling with keeping it all
together and not finding much room for anyone or anything else. Sound familiar?
Grief is all-consuming and unpredictable just like chronic illness. It strikes
when you least expect it and lingers for much longer than you’d like.
But sometimes, you forget. Sometimes you feel good and that’s OK. It’s OK to revel in feeling happy
despite loss. It’s OK to remember happy times and not feel guilt for what you
could or should have done during the bad. So when you are struggling with
illness (or grief) and feel lost try to remember the good; and that that good
will come back around in time. Focus on what you have and not what you have
lost, because sometimes that’s all we can do to get through. xo
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