What Are You Afraid Of?

Today was Easter and one of the first questions the Pastor asked after starting his sermon was, "What are you afraid of?" I have to admit the first thing that came to mind as I was sitting in a room of a few hundred people was germs. I know that sounds crazy but for me and other chronically ill people it is real. I freak every time I go out in the germ filled world. Church is the worst because everyone has to shake hands and how do you avoid an out stretched hand? "Um not thanks I'll pass because I don't know where your hand has been?" It doesn't work like that so I put the hand sanitizer in the top of my purse and use it, most of the time. It's pretty easy to conceal until the whiff of it notifies everyone in smelling distance that there's a germ aphobic somewhere close by. I want to laugh every time I use it because we all know how people are. I'm pretty sure I would think the same thing if I was healthy and didn't have to worry about germs. It wasn't so easy to use today as I surrounded by people and it might have been pretty rude to use hand sanitizer after I shook hands with the person sitting next to me. I sat there while the germs permiated into my dermis pretty sure my connective tissue was already going into shock. I left church praying that my immune system is strong enough to combat the germy critters invading my space not to mention the ones I inhaled but I won't go there. Hold it my nose is beginning to burn a little bit. Ha

I got over the germ issue, to some degree, and the Paster went deeper on the, "What are you afraid of" subject. He went on to tell a story about when he was a child and how the dark scared him. He ended with the fact that most of what we fear comes from a fear of death. You had to be there to hear the whole sermon but if you go deep enough you can figure it out. I thought about my biggest fear after sorting through the germ invasion and the funny part was I had been thinking about it while we were sitting there waiting for church to start. My fear? Public. People. Groups of people. I never feel I fit in. I'm an outsider because no one can relate to me. I mean what do you talk about with the sick girl? You earn the label and it sticks. I get very nervous when I have to be with people because I hear so much life when mine is very smell. I looked up some volunteering opportunities in my area and maybe one day soon I will feel up to doing that. It probably doesn't help at all that I'm in a flare right now with pain at higher levels than normal especially at night. You know it's bad when you have to pee in the middle of the night but it takes you so long to loosen up and get to the toilet and whoopsies you're two years old again. I have to laugh. It's also humiliating to be a two year old again but hey I have no shame so why not share it with the world. It's one of the ugly sides of chronic illness. The ones nobody talks about. It ain't always pretty being chronically ill.

Another thing that im afraid of is going to the doctor. When I went to the doctor a few weeks ago and saw a new doc and she looked on the computer at my book diagnosis' and says, "Wow I would have never thought you were dealing with so much from the way you look and act." What am I suppose to say to that?" I just said, "I have to put on the face." Literally, makeup covers a multitude of under eye blackness and pale skin that looks like a corpse. Bright colored cloths always help with the walking dead look. Then I started thinking when I go to the doctor should I not wear makeup, do my hair, or dress decent so they can see what I really look like? I'm pretty sure they would open the door and call a code red in exam room 4. The they would call the nearest coroner to come see if they should pack me on ice. All joking aside there are days like that. It's seems not only doctors but everyone questions chronic illness. I wish I could figure out why but I probably never will. I'm sure that is the biggest reason I am afraid of seeing people, the doubts of something they can't see, my reality.

I really can't say my fears have anything to do with my death because I'm ready. My fears are much different and I'm sure they would look much different if I was living a normal life. This IS my reality, my life. I'm always trying to keep one step ahead and just when I get there I'm knocked down fours steps and have to start all over to work at getting back up. This happens over, and over, and over, again. One day I'll reach the top and all the illness fears will disappear. I will win because of an open tomb and I am so very grateful for that!