Topical interlude
Sep. 10th, 2007 01:04 pmThis is, so I discover, National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week
It's a pernicious thing, an invisible illness. People have heard of spoons, sort of (I don't like the analogy, but there you go), but it's not the same. People who have an ivisible illness are just that invisible.
I know. I have one.
Reiter's Syndrome
It's not terrible, but I'm always aware of it.
Which is just the way it is. Some days I have aches and pains.
It's the secondary effects. There are time I can't do things which seem perfectly normal (I seem to have a mild case of chronic Reiter's. It could be worse, I could have a massive case, or a more vigorous case, which fades away and then recurrs in force).
The way it usually affects me is that I can't do things for as long as I used to be able to. My joints start to hurt, and moving becomes a little painful. If I push it motion gets limited. I'll never free-climb Half Dome (Ok, that's a cheap rhetorical flourish, free climbing rocks where a fall is certain death isn't on my list of approved activities... I may be crazy but I ain't stupid).
Which is where the invisible part come in. If you don't know I'm sick, then my begging off seems to be that of a wimp, or a killjoy. I look just fine, but I'm not.
There are a lot of people out there who have the same problem, their handicaps aren't out there where they can be seen.
So here I am, doffing, for the moment, the cloak of invisibilty I normally get to wear.
It's a pernicious thing, an invisible illness. People have heard of spoons, sort of (I don't like the analogy, but there you go), but it's not the same. People who have an ivisible illness are just that invisible.
I know. I have one.
Reiter's Syndrome
It's not terrible, but I'm always aware of it.
Which is just the way it is. Some days I have aches and pains.
It's the secondary effects. There are time I can't do things which seem perfectly normal (I seem to have a mild case of chronic Reiter's. It could be worse, I could have a massive case, or a more vigorous case, which fades away and then recurrs in force).
The way it usually affects me is that I can't do things for as long as I used to be able to. My joints start to hurt, and moving becomes a little painful. If I push it motion gets limited. I'll never free-climb Half Dome (Ok, that's a cheap rhetorical flourish, free climbing rocks where a fall is certain death isn't on my list of approved activities... I may be crazy but I ain't stupid).
Which is where the invisible part come in. If you don't know I'm sick, then my begging off seems to be that of a wimp, or a killjoy. I look just fine, but I'm not.
There are a lot of people out there who have the same problem, their handicaps aren't out there where they can be seen.
So here I am, doffing, for the moment, the cloak of invisibilty I normally get to wear.