Just because you’re sick…
This morning I got an email alert about a new comment on my Be Okay post. The comment said:
“Being sick doesn’t give you permission to act like a horse’s ass!”
My first reaction was annoyance, because I do not understand blog trolls. Seriously. Just don’t get it.
My second reaction was humor, because dude, horse’s ass? Why not jackass? Or just ass?
And my third reaction was sadness, because this woman, who, to her credit left her name and email address, is an example of why it’s hard to have a chronic illness. People simply do not understand and some don’t even try.
I don’t think that I’m allowed anymore leeway of being an asshole (or horse’s ass) because I’m in pain. I don’t think that I’m more interesting or more special or more anything than anyone else. I am human and if I’m being an ass it’s got nothing to do with being unwell. Though pain has changed me in ways I hate and cannot even begin to articulate, I will not hide behind my illness. I will not blame the way I act on pain.
People like Tammy simply don’t get why these comments are hard to take. I know it’s just one person in the mix of 14 nice comments, but comments like those are harsh. Because even though I don’t blame my actions on pain, my life is changed by it.
No matter how much I try, I have to flake on friends all the time. Tonight I’m missing out on the Nike Human Race, which TONS of my friends are participating in. Tomorrow morning I’m backing out of a volunteer opportunity that I had been looking forward to and which even more friends will be at. The only thing I can even hope to do this weekend is attend the football game and if I hadn’t already paid for the tickets, I’d probably not go (because I know I shouldn’t).
I have friends, but after a while, most of them will fade. You can only flake on friends so many times before they stop inviting you. You can only whine to friends so much before they stop asking how you’re doing.
I live my life in pain, but seeing how it has changed my life is worse than any physical feeling could ever be. There is not a day I don’t wish I could go back to the person I was before these headaches began. Before we knew what was wrong. There isn’t a day I don’t wish that I was normal. That you could just call me an asshole and not think that it’s because I’m in pain (or that I think it’s okay because I’m in pain).
In the end, I’m doing the best that I can to still be me (even if it closely resembles a horse’s ass) in spite of my life, in spite of my pain. Pain has changed me more than I care to admit and I’m sorry if you don’t like the person I am.
You aren’t the first one to feel that way and you won’t be the last.
But that’s my burden to bear.
And yours is to read someone else’s blog.
13 Responses to “Just because you’re sick…”
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Welcome! I'm Katie, a 28 year old, full-time graduate student who just happened to have brain surgery in November of 2007 to give my ginormous brain a little more space. This blog chronicles my daily life, from relentless headaches to being a doctor's wife. Sit down, get comfortable and stay for a while.
Out of all the things I’ve known you to be ‘ass’ is not one of them, let alone one belonging to a horse! Strong, courageous, beautiful and perhaps even a tad unlucky? Yes. Ass? No.
*hugs*!
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Maybe I’m just more empathetic than that commenter, but I didn’t think you were an ass in the post she seemed to dislike.
But then, I’m also dealing with health issues — not nearly as physically painful as yours, but I know the fear and worry and restrictions.
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Hugs to you for being honest and strong.
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Verbally venting your frustrations doesnt make you, or any of us dealing with chronic pain, a horses ass. I missed my friends bday today, my best friends wedding a couple of weeks ago and my cousins 30th birthday. Ive lost my job and hear less and less from my friends, we didnt ask for any of this, is it any wonder we get frustrated when all we want more than anything is to be ‘normal’ again?
I think its refreshing to see someone who is so open about how they are feeling particularly in such a public way, its your blog and you have a right to say how you feel. I for one admire your honesty.
A comment box doesnt give you the right to be a horses ass either.
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love love love this post… I am proud of you and that last sentence in this post was perfect…… we are all human… finding our own sense of *normal*
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Okay, I realize that I am operating under the veil of chemo brain, but I just don’t get it. What did you write in that entry that made her call you a horse’s ass? I reread it several times and it just seems like you pouring your heart out and sharing.
I thought that was what a blog was for…sharing…giving opinions…writing whatever suits you.
What am I missing?
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Being sick is tedious. Being sick feels stupid and wrong and tiresome. And yes, being sick makes you act in ways that don’t fit in with your own or others’ expectations of how people SHOULD behave.
But it is what it is. I lived with horrific pain for about 6 months. In that time, I never drove more than a mile. When I look back on it, it seems RIDICULOUS! How could you not drive more than a mile for SIX MONTHS! But at the time, I truly could not. The pain was too bad. If I sat up for longer than a few minutes, the pain was so bad that I would be a danger while driving. So. I guess I was a horse’s ass, because I missed a lot of things and frustrated a lot of people.
But I can tell you what I know with every ounce of my being: I was doing the best I could with what I had at the time.
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You are clearly a strong person – both for enduring the pain and for writing about it. You’re giving others comfort, perspective, a voice. There’s nothing asshole-ish in that!
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I’m sure many are thinking the same thing I’m going to commit to written word. She’s the horses ass and you are a hero for enduring everyday. I’d like to think gracefully and believe that maybe this woman is going through her own issues and sometimes those issues can make her unintentionally mean but I’m not supporting her fight, I’m supporting yours.
Chin up young person. Sticks and stones….
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I saw the original comment and thought about replying but wasn’t sure how. Still don’t.
I admire you for stepping out there. Like a lot of the commenters, I have medical issues that have caused major changes in life. I know that there are lots of days when I go through major depression. On those days I do the best I can; but when I look back and think about things realize that there are people who would say I was a jackass. My husband says I am short. His word for my attitude toward everything when I am in a “mood.” He says I can cut with a word/attitude and do when I am like that.
I have lost a lot just like you. You have the prospect of getting your life back because there is hope that this new procedure will cure. I hope it does. You are younger than my youngest child. I wish for you all the future hopes and dreams I wish for my children.
Like someone said before, illness makes people change. We all deal the best we can. I think you are dealing and being a hero to many. I know that I enjoy (probably not a good word but can’t think of a better) reading your blog. I appreciate that you are willing to place your fears and anxieties out there.
Again, thank you for your sharing. There are many out there who aren’t nearly as ill who aren’t dealing as well as you.
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Delurking for a moment to say wow. Sorry you had such an asinine comment. Seems to me that a big part of the purpose of this blog to be an outlet for you to express your pain, frustration, and emotions surrounding your illness. I think that you do it well without becoming a big ball of self pity – not an easy task. Wishing you continued strength through your ordeal and hoping that you don’t have to deal with more comments of this ilk!
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It’s your blog. You get to say what you want. Trolls and mean people need not apply.
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I can identify somewhat, Katie. We are moving in a week and packing. My mind works faster than my body and today I passed out packing up a closet. It is so disheartening to see myself losing ground. 3 1/2 years ago we moved from Virginia to IL and I packed everything with no problem. I hate being dependent upon people. Thank God I have a wonderful husband who is my rock and understands the hell of fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome and the effects of radioactive iodine cancer treatment on the body. No, it’s not OK to not be able to do the things you look forward to because unfortunately there are no “do-overs” of weddings…the pictures and videos simply aren’t the same and it sucks. I admire your willingness to get up each day and do the best you can because it would be so easy just to stay in bed and give up. All my love and prayers to you.
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