Your confidence will lead you on

Illness is a rather flexible word. A bit like “patient”, it can be applied to situations of widely varying severity. In the US, when someone says “I have an illness”, most people respond “I hope you get well soon”. A kind, thoughtful and I believe genuine response.  With someone who is chronically ill, there is no immediately appropriate phrase. “I hope you don’t die soon” just doesn’t have the same sort of kind and thoughtful ring that “Get well soon” does.

Chronic illness is, obviously, a constant condition and we seemingly have no socially recognized way for those who care about us to quickly share their sentiments.  To underscore my point, here is an example from the last few months…

In March, I tore the planter fascia tendon in my left foot. How did I do that? At a doctor’s appt. But more on that in a later post…. To heal the tendon, I needed to wear a neoprene and Velcro boot cast. With a custom-made orthotic to prevent sores from developing on my foot. With additional special padding to prevent skin damage to my leg. And a compression stocking to help with circulation so crucial to diabetic feet.  After wearing the cast for nine weeks, my podiatrist (we’ll call him Dr. Redmond) and I decided that I had to stop wearing the cast because my back and my hips were now in constant pain from limping around with the 4 pound, 3 inch platformed monstrosity.   The tendon had not healed as much as it needed to but I swore an oath to wear only my custom orthotics and tennis shoes.  I was out of the boot for three weeks. Then I broke a bone in my foot.

Back into the boot for six more weeks. Then another two weeks. Then another two weeks after that. The really insulting part is that no one knows how I broke my foot.  My left foot has now been MRI’d, Xray’d, Dexa scanned and pressure tested multiple times.

Strangers notice casts pretty quickly. They will ask “How'd ya do that ?” People in elevators say “Gosh, I had to wear one of those once, it was miserable”.  The people who know and love you see you wearing the same cast for almost seven months and they their concern is visible but no quick quip comes to their lips.  

How to deal with this? I don’t have an answer that would work for everyone.  For me, I have found that it is best to focus on the actions, and not just the words, of those who know and love you. I consider myself especially lucky as I have a pretty special group of clever and thoughtful people in my life. The young man who babysits my son told me the story of how his Mom “bedazzled” her cast. An artistic friend suggested that the cast could be stylishly enhanced with paint and markers. My Mom and I agreed that this is a great opportunity to wear silly socks since you can see my toes. My husband helps me put my boot cast on and sets up my bone growth machine every day. Today, some good friends presented me with a bunch of peel-and-stick rhinestones to embellish my now seemingly constant medical footwear.  Most days, I simply wear black pants and black socks to camouflage my black behemoth of a cast. However, I know that if the leg of my pants rises a little, I can see the love and care all the wonderful people in my life  -  the tightened Velcro straps of the cast, the paisleys on the cuffs of my socks and the little rhinestones winking up at me.