Saturday, May 27, 2017

Why Birthdays are Difficult with Chronic Illness



My 35th birthday is next month and I usually love celebrating my birthday, but I am having a really hard time this year. It’s not that I don’t have anything worth celebrating - I am extremely grateful for my  husband who is truly my best friend, my wonderful and encouraging family, those few loyal friendships that are steadfast no matter what the years throw at us, my pets whom I find endlessly entertaining, the list goes on. Although I am not where I thought I’d be at 35, most days I am able to find peace with my circumstances. However, finding ways to celebrate when you’re ill is tough. There are so many things I want to do, some that seem reasonable for an average person – ice skating, going to a movie, riding the carousel and using the paddle boats at the park, taking a cooking class, bowling with friends – and others are over-the-top – driving to another state for a weekend getaway, flying overseas, going on a hot air balloon ride. The thing is, whether I were to choose something reasonable or extravagant, it wouldn’t matter. My body won’t allow me to do either one. 

Anyone who knows me knows that I love food, so every year I try to pick out someplace special to have my birthday dinner. Sometimes the restaurant is on the fancy side, but often it is just a place that is known to have good grub. But even going out to eat when you are ill can be an ordeal. This year I have been considering Hayes Barton CafĂ© in Raleigh because I have never been there and I am in the mood for some yummy comfort food (hello, meatloaf!) and a big slice of cake. In order to go to a restaurant, particularly one I have never been to before, I have to consider whether there is close parking and decide if I should plan to use my wheelchair the whole time or leave it in the car and only bring it out if needed? Can the restaurant even accommodate a wheelchair? Yes, most restaurants say they are ADA accessible but were you to actually try maneuvering a wheelchair in there during busy hours you would find out otherwise. Do I need a reservation? If they don’t take reservations (which is the case with Hayes Barton), are they going to be so crowded that I will have to stand in line to wait (cue the wheelchair)? Is the restaurant going to be too noisy or the lights inside too bright? If either one occurs, I could end up with a migraine attack that will leave me unable to communicate or walk.  I plan to bring my sunglasses just in case. Should I plan to eat dessert there? I would really like to because that is part of the birthday experience, but am I asking for too much by hoping that I won’t have a migraine or post-prandial episode? I’d like to walk around the streets a little after dinner to look at the shops and restaurants and houses in that neighborhood, but even a five or ten minute walk could be too much, and I may not know whether that’s the case until it’s too late. 

Oh, did I mention I also plan to have a birthday lunch with my family, so I need to make these considerations times two! 

Some of you may be wondering why I would choose to go out to eat if it is so much work and why I wouldn’t just pick something else to do for my big day. Well, to be frank, there aren’t many options that are less complicated or less work for me (sans sitting on my butt at home) than going out to eat. I could ask my parents if they would mind hosting a dinner at their home, but we have family dinner there most Wednesdays and that is sometimes the only time I leave my house for the entire week, so I would like to do something special for my birthday. I have racked my brain trying to think of another activity that I can do on my birthday that would be feasible with my limitations – maybe bowling, but the lights and noise in a bowling alley are surprisingly in-your-face. Movie theaters are much worse in that regard. How about miniature golf? Well, in the fall or winter, I might actually be able to handle this activity but I unfortunately can’t stand, sit, or walk outside in the summer for that long, which means that going to a park (which I also was really considering) is out of the running as well. I attended a block-printing workshop at a local indie store a couple of years ago and while it wore me out, that was actually something that was feasible for someone with my limitations. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find any affordable one-day workshops or classes that fit the bill this summer. Most classes, such as sewing, pottery or cooking, aren’t really the best choices for me because of the amount of time I would need to be sitting or standing. Most days I can only sit for a couple of hours at a time before needing to lie down. I can only stand in one spot for 10 minutes before I should sit. That is the reality, and it sucks. I push myself on this at times, particularly when I am with other people, because I don’t want to appear weak and I don’t want to draw attention myself. But I do pay the price for those times when I don’t allow my body to rest. You may notice me shift my weight from foot to foot, or lean up against something. I am trying to get better at letting my friends know when I need to sit or lie down, but if you happen to notice me leaning on furniture or my eyes becoming glassy, please encourage me to rest. 

Even if I decide to take a chance on an activity (I have seriously been considering saying screw it to my body and attempting to see a movie or go bowling anyway), actually making the plans can be problematic. Some of you may be nodding your heads in agreement, given how much I have cancelled on you over the years. Adjusting to the unpredictability of these illnesses continues to be one of the hardest things. Yes, every day brings some pain and fatigue, but is tomorrow going to be a day that I’m stuck in bed – I won’t know until the time comes. I can be fine one morning, and be completely unable to walk to the bathroom on my own by evening. Occasionally, I can point to a trigger or a cause for the increase in symptoms, but most of the time it just happens with no rhyme or reason. This makes it challenging to make and keep plans. I would like to send out an invitation to all of my friends letting them know that I will be at such and such bowling alley from 2-4 PM on this date, drop in if you can. But the truth is, there is a really great a chance I may not be able to attend my own party. So I keep my circle tight, mostly just family, so that if I have to cancel or if I have an “episode” both of which I often do, they will understand. Unfortunately, this can make my world feel terribly small at times. 

This post wasn’t meant to be a pity party. I am writing it with the hopes that someone will read it and gain a better understanding of the challenges that individuals with chronic illnesses face, particularly on special occasions. As far as my birthday goes, I’m not too worried. I have plenty of time to find little ways of making it special, and James and my family always go above and beyond to make sure I know I am loved. I read this blog post last night when I was looking for someone who could relate to my birthday blues, and I really appreciated the way this woman found pleasure in the smallest of details: https://medium.com/@srachel_m/celebrating-while-sick-fc2cf09b7716

If you stuck around to read all of this, you’re awesome.