“I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think:
was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember
feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, ‘Who
in the world am I? Ah, THAT'S the great puzzle!'”
– Lewis Carroll, Alice
in Wonderland
My mother ran a daycare in our house when I was growing
up. When we would play Disney
princesses, the other girls would quickly claim their favorite characters while
I tried to find one who was suitable. “I
want to be Alice,” I would say. I’m such
an Alice. “This is only for princesses,”
the girls would whine. I would choose
someone else. It was easier than fighting.
We don’t always get to be the people we want to be in life.
Growing up, I wanted to be a doctor. I did all the things I was supposed to in
order to achieve this goal – get a science degree, work in health care, take
the MCAT, get recommendations. I did
everything I was supposed to. But when
it came time to apply, I was too sick to do it.
This was years before I was diagnosed and was having increasingly strange
issues. I did not want to be in a situation
where I had to decline admission because of health issues.
So I went to grad school instead. I graduated both college and grad school
young, and I figured there would be time to get healthy and go to medical
school later. Time is so enormous when
you’re young. It stretches out before
you, overwhelming in its enormity.
And then one day you wake up and you’re 30 and you never got
healthy enough to go to medical school. There
is this idea that you can do whatever you want in life. That’s not really true. You can do whatever you want if you execute a
series of decisions in a certain time frame.
It’s so hard to look back sometimes.
If there is any universal truth about chronic illness, it is
that it changes you fundamentally. You
can never again be the person you were before you got sick.
In some ways, I am grateful for this fact. There are a lot of things that I didn’t like
about myself when I was younger. There
are still some things I don’t like, but I am proud that these number far
fewer. Being sick has made me more
compassionate, less judgmental and more patient. Of course, I’m not always like this.
In 2012, I went to Seattle for my friend’s wedding. While there, I got very, very sick. I was fortunate to be travelling with a very
old and dear friend who took care of me for the duration. I’m most fortunate that he put up with
me. I am not fun to be around when I’m
in pain. The desperation you feel when
you’re suffering eliminates the mental route that takes you through manners and
social graces. I was so heinous at the
end of that trip, I am mortified looking back.
Knowing that he forgives me and that we are still close friends does not
negate the horror I still feel.
People say a lot that chronic illness molds you into a
better person. I disagree. I think it splits your very nature in half:
your best qualities amplified on your better days, your worst apparent otherwise. It is like sharing a body with doppelgangers,
light and dark, never knowing which one will be behind your face.
Some people feel that because it is part of the disease, it
is acceptable to lash out at those around them.
And though I do it too, I disagree that it’s excusable. I don’t want it to be okay for me to be mean
to my friends and family. I don’t want
it to be an inherent part of a relationship with me. I am responsible for the damage I wreak, even
if it’s not my fault.
Whether or not these behaviors are driven by illness, we are
still responsible for the people we become.
And though I never wanted to be this person, I am, and I am responsible
for that.
(I may end up with 2 comments, my other one has disappeared.) I LOVE Alice! I relate to her very much!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your blog!!!!