Pardon My French

One of the top questions I’ve been asking myself since becoming ill is, “how am I going to be successful?” 

I had a job that set me up for a lot of long term success. No cap on potential. I remember smiling out loud in the car on my way to the office on my short commute playing my pump up playlist. There was never traffic because we got up earlier than everyone else. I loved that. Starting my day in a fabulous outfit. Driving before the sun was out. Everyone holding each other to their personal and professional goals. Success was explicitly defined. I enjoyed how clear cut it was. It simplified life for me and was really empowering.

Based on what the doctors have said about my case, I shouldn’t be going for high stress jobs when I recover. I have a love hate relationship with stress. It can be so very thrilling. Stress can also be detrimental on the body though. My body no longer adapts to stress. Turns out things I didn’t think had any stress to them, have stress to them. My body handles stress about as well as the ants in “Bug’s Life” handled the grasshoppers coming early for their harvest. “They come. They eat. They leave.”Duck and cover. When I tell you I had to prep days in advance to make sure I was ready to get behind the wheel? “Sweet mother it isn’t even a big deal!”- things I tell my body who thinks that it is indeed, a big deal.

I’m trying to see where I will fit in a post-POTS or minimal POTS world. Something to work towards. It’s a bit tricky to feel and/or stay empowered thinking about the future and returning to a normal functioning life when you can’t wake up before or go into a crying fit because the dog randomly barked.

During one of the many conversations I’ve had with my husband about this topic he said, “well maybe we are going to need to redefine what it means for you to feel successful.” LIKE WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, BRO?! Since the pandemic though, I think more and more people, able bodied and all are grappling with this very question.

But that’s the part. That’s the struggle.  Most individuals I’ve spoken with who are chronically ill actively feel this or have felt this, depending on where they are in their journey. We live in a highly competitive society. So what happens when you lose your competitive edge? Your literal ability. Ability to drive, think sharply, meet physical demands, handle stress, stay alert, multitask, etc.

I’ve always had my own thing going. I electively worked my butt off in the summers starting at 13 years old. Not being able to work just isn’t my thing. I can only control what I can control though. I can manage my symptoms but only to a point. My nervous systems aren’t going to play by the rules just cause I ask them nicely. This is a process that has taken time and will continue to take time. I can’t even begin to explain how much acceptance goes into that.

The loss of various capabilities is not a psychological cakewalk. Like, at all. In this respect of chronic illness, it’s easy to feel small. Like you’re insignificant. Don’t add value to anything. That you’re just a parasite to people in your life. You’re not any of those things. (I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again and again and again because I know it’s a message that needs to be repeated: don’t allow people access to your life that make you feel any of these things (chronic ill or healthy).) You(and pardon my French but I can’t stress this enough) are a Badass. 

People have zero idea what we do on a daily basis to get through the day. Trouble standing up. Nausea. Blood pooling painfully in the feet. Mandatory fluids. The pills. The chronic fatigue. The brain fog that makes you seem like someone who would quickly fail on Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader. The list goes on and on. And yet, you keep making it through the day. Physically and emotionally. That is successful. We are dealt some rough cards and daily bluff our way through the game. Sometimes so convincingly no one calls the bluff and we win the hand. Think how annoying the people who make you feel small act when they get a cold. You think they could handle your day to day? Puuuhlease. 

I haven’t defined what success is going to mean to me moving forward. But I can tell you one thing though for sure, in this field, I am a success. You’re a success. And we? We are badasses.