As many of you know, for the last three months I have been suffering with an ailment. An all encompassing, soul destroying, ailment. I've had three months of tears, tantrums and vomit. Oh the vomit.
With each day that passes I think, 'Maybe this is it, the day I am finally healed', but so far that day hasn't materialised. As much as the physical pain, the emotional pain of feeling useless and worthless begins to eat you up. I can't go to clubs, I can't walk long distances, I can't sit up for long periods of time.
Then these feelings lead to panic. What if this is now my life forever? What if this is just the beginning and I will now forever dislocate all my joints? I'm a very stoic person but the reality of the situation is very real.
The Paralympics showed all you able bodied people what we can do. I sat and watched.. and cried. I was so proud of them, but yet hearing how brave/amazing/inspiring these people were made me realise that if this gets worse as I get older, I don't think I'll cope very well with people patting me on the head telling me how brave I am.
With the advances in surgeries and treatments there is hope of fending off the inevitable. Hopefully in time the pain will fade, the scars will heal and I can live a relatively normal life. I genuiny can't even remember what it's like to have a fully functioning body, having spent half my life in a living hell. So as you put on your clothes tomorrow, pain free, spare a thought for people less fortunate than you.
