So we’re going to visit a kidney patient today. Yeah, you know those bean-shaped organs that regulate water and such? That kinda slacked a bit. If this girl gets a new one it would be good. Anyway hope she gets better.
This^^ is what I thought of health problems; they won’t affect me whatsoever, therefore I needn’t worry. For others, well, there are medicines, prayer, you name it, you can always do something about it. If you can’t then, well, that’s sad.
I didn’t realize what a toll it takes to have even a tiny disruption in normal health cycles. A few weeks back I got up, clutching my stomach, and stayed like that for three days. Unable to eat or sleep or read, it was terrible; yet the doctors said it was a common problem with girls- just a cyst, just gastritis; Just.
I tried to remember all the times friends told me they had a similar issue..how did they bear it and later on act like nothing happened?
When you’re in pain, and you don’t know what to so, you’re under the power of your parents, doctors with their needles, and scariest of all, a body that you can’t control.
It’s only then that you realize how helpless you are against circumstances, against situations that don’t ask for your permission to hit you in the face, it just happens. and what can you do? Just brave it out, grabbing at hope even if it’s a bitter tablet in your mouth, just coz it promises to make you better.
When you’re in pain, you long for people to understand what you’re going through; to not eat chocolate when you can’t, to not burst into the room and aid the hammers that are already banging your head open. Yet you don’t want pity, you just, oh please just, want to be normal, breathing, moving, you, again.
You’re robbed of your powers, you’re ordered by your own slaves. You’re made to jump off cliffs, many in fact, if it’s gonna make you better. Sometimes taking a risk is worth the jump, sometimes it lands you into something worse. It can take days to heal into what you were; it can take a lifetime. There are points where you wonder if you’ll ever be the same again, if it’s worth the struggle.
She smiles at me every Sunday at church, and I never thought twice about her; yet now when I think of how scared she must be, I shudder. She walks about at home with tubes from inside her, and has treats of self-administered injections everyday. Injections! Dreadful things that invade your body. And that’s the part which gives her relief from of her pain.
‘Should I just give up?’, you cry in defiance at the sickness that dares to challenge your rights to a normal-functioning body.
‘Hey, yeah everyone, that’s right, I’m not some weakling here bent over with the inconvenience of my pain, I’m a fighter, battling for my life. It’s a wonder I’m even here’, you think, mentally putting other people in your place and seeing them completely thrown over if they faced the same thing.
But they do.
And this girl with her kidney problems, she’s facing much worse. That’s what astonishes me.
Thinking of how I’d dismissed her problem before as something of her concern, and not to do with me, I feel ashamed. That’s exactly the worst thing I could’ve done- to treat it as though it were nothing.
That face that smiled over broken self-worth, covering all its miseries and putting up a barrier between the whole world and her lone self; that has to be let down. It’s bad enough to bear something without the comfort of others lending a hand to lift it off your back.
Maybe they can’t, but at least they cared to try.
Who knows, maybe I can lift it off today, just an inch: anything to let her know she isn’t the only soldier in her fight for her life.