Post the third! (has nothing to do with cows)

Haha, cow butt. Thanks google!

Do you know what's hard to have when your head is permanently shoved up your ass, worrying about.......your ass? PERSPECTIVE. Today was a day of little reminders that I am lucky, in so many ways, in terms of my health. First, I have a support system. I came home to a message from someone just "checking in" to make sure I was still kicking. It was low key, just "call if you need anything," but it was very comforting. I have people.

Second, I have health insurance. Granted, my entire tax refund check is going to fund a colonoscopy that I had 4 months ago, but I'm still paying about 1/4 of the total amount. The steroids that I'm on right now? According to the printout from the pharmacy, they cost over a thousand dollars. PER MONTH. I have a ten dollar co-pay. Every time I pick up a new med, I think, how do people without jobs or insurance or savings pay for this? Thank you, insurance. If everyone were "forced" to buy you, more people would have access to the aforementioned expensive drugs! But that's another post:)

I was at B&N and ran into a co-worker in the parking lot. She was holding the tiny, chubby hands of her toddler high above his head as he lurched towards the store, taking giant unsteady steps. I stopped to say hello, and she introduced me to her parents; her father didn't have the use of his right hand, and while I aborted my handshake into an awkward wave he was fixated on his grandson's progress, his face both sad and proud. At the grocery store, a woman with a limp navigated around the bread shelves in the deli, pushing forward to get a free sample, and then another. An elderly man took excruciatingly slow steps to the exit, and as I darted around him to hurry to my car I saw his wife waiting on the corner, holding out her hand. He helped her to their car. He was the steady one.

People went about their lives with their imperfect bodies.

I am often annoyed that people cannot see my illness, and so in a way it doesn't exist for them. When I meet up with a friend, I hear, "You look great! You're lost weight!" and while that's nice to hear (I guess?) it seems to me the unspoken thought that accompanies that statement is "so you can't possibly be that sick!" Yes, I'm overly sensitive. Yes, it's easier to nitpick the trivial comments of others and deflect my anger onto the people and words that really have nothing to do with my condition. Yes, the steroids make me (more) emotional. But sometimes I just want to wear a t-shirt that says, "I spent the morning on the toilet and I'm tired and I feel like someone sucked all of the energy from my body with a giant straw so could you please cut me some slack?"

And then comes a day like today, where I see people all around me living their lives and interacting with people without the aid of a non-catchy semi-horrifying t-shirt. I guess I do the same, and in some ways I blend in as "normal" even if I feel anything but. It's a kind of invisibility that can be lonely. But for now, for today, I am going to try to focus on the lucky part, and to wedge my head out of my AAC.