I wonder sometimes what others see when they look at me. Am I so shallow that I will let my appearance deceive me into thinking vanity and looks govern my integrity?
It is a rhetoric question, but not without some merit. As this illness slowly takes over my body I stand naked and examine this body.
I used to wear long sleeve shirts to cover my lesions from the psoriasis. Sad that my body looked the way it did; not shamed. But I can not cover the marks any longer, and I stopped long ago. These scars will never leave me.
I can not hide my weight with a larger shirt. It just makes me bigger. And it is not disgust with what I see, it is a memory of what used to be.
There are newer things that bother me now. Freckles and speckles I call them. The psoriasis has left, but now I have living dying skin. The evidence runs up and down my arms and legs like blemishes. The color of my skin is the perfect color for contrast.
My moving is slower. Not so much the result of age, but of dying muscle. It is painful. My legs scream out under the weight they carry.
The runny noses reveal more blood and the lack of sleep is tiring. Exhaustion is from sleep and no sleep, it doesn't matter.
I am self conscious. And that bothers me because I am still the same person I have always been.
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Hey, i know how you feel. i had psc and my legs and hands are still scared its gotten a little better. I feel the same way as you, i am so self consious but i had to tell myself to stop. I dont know if you have had your transplant or not yet but the mind is effected immensly. the chemicals that rage through us still have an effect and take time to fully dissapate. to let the world govern what you should look like. We are warriors, be proud of the scars, it shows your strength. be proud of who you are because you are a fighter and a winner. keep your chin up. love yourself. love where you are, where you've been, and where you're going.
ReplyDeleteDamen Geisler
Hang in there. My husband had a liver transplant back in June of '08 and is doing really well. Within a few shorts days after the transplant the whites of his eyes went back to being white (instead of the bright, egg-yolk yellow they had been) and the nosebleeds and severe muscle cramps ended immediately, and have never come back. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Keep trusting in God and look to the future.
ReplyDeleteLinda B. Wichita, KS
Damen,
ReplyDeleteFrom time to time I appear to whine. I didn't start this blog to do that. When I write about my illness I am merely pointing out that I recognize certain things as time goes on. The challenges I face as I wait for transplant can be overwhelming and depressing, I know this. But as I wait for my transplant I truly try to stay focused and spiritually centered. Otherwise I think I would go mad.
In keeping true to myself I try to be honest and accept the inevitable. Still, every so often tears of admission fall through.
Linda B,
ReplyDeleteThank you. Your name sounds familiar.
I am glad your husband is doing well. I hate the cramps. I get them in the oddest places. In the crook behind my kneecaps and in the arches of my feet. They seriously hurt. Fortunately they are far and few between.
Good health to you and your family.
Sincerely, Beaux
When Carl was at his worst -- really, really yellow -- one of his friends said something really cool. "Carl, you are yellow because God highlighted you." I'll never forget those encouraging words.
ReplyDeleteTake care -- we're praying that your wait won't be much longer.