Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18
The first 6 months:
I remember crying the first time that I was able to stand and worship. It had been six months since I was last able to do so. The UC had crept upon me so slowly I didn't even notice I was sick. Everything came to feel normal. It was normal to sleep in and miss class 4 out of the five days in a week. It was normal to have to mentally note where every restroom was when I walked into a building. It was normal that in a day I was using the bathroom 10 or more times. It was normal that every night I woke up at least twice to use the restroom. It was normal to be completely exhausted after walking up ten steps. It was normal to miss most of church because I was too busy taking care of business. It was normal not to be able to worship because I wasn't able to stand up for more than 3 minutes at a time, especially if I was singing or speaking. It was normal to be abnormal. I don't know how I let it happen, but after a semester and a summer term of healing, I let myself get sick again. My weight had evened out and my energy was back. I was playing Frisbee and softball and enjoying life. I don't even remember things changing. All that I can remember is the beginning, and the end. In the beginning I was healthy and hopeful for the future. In the end I was back in the hospital, pale as a ghost and being filled up with a bag of iron and wishing that my life wasn't my own. I had listened to the doctors, I gave myself my shots, I took my pills, when I could eat I ate healthy, but it wasn't enough. That is one thing I learned about UC, nothing will ever be enough, UC can always win. That thought still haunts me today. Every ping of pain, every time I eat something just a little too greasy or anytime I toot I wonder if that is the beginning.
In the months leading up to that hospital visit I was in school, doing the best that I could. I'm still not sure how I passed my classes with all B's. I missed more class than attended. I couldn't help but think every time I sent one of my professors an e-mail explaining why I missed class that they were thinking I was lying. I wasn't lying, but I still couldn't look them in the eyes. I felt like a failure. My friends and family couldn't even fully comprehend what I was going through, how could I expect a teacher to? That was one of the hardest things to deal with though, the lack of understanding by friends and family. How do you explain that breathing exhausts you? Or that you spend more time sitting on the toilet than in a desk. How can you explain that you have no hope; that you can't even open your bible, because all you can do is sleep? You can't. It doesn't make any sense that someone could be that far down, but they can be. If you were to compile the position the illness put me in, and the fact that I found myself too tired even to read the bible, you would just find a deep dark hole. And that is where I was. You feel alone, and worthless. You come up with nonsensical ideas, like, "If I don't eat, I can't go to the bathroom". You speak to no one. You're disgusting, and no one wants to listen. These are the lies you tell yourself and that no one can break you from. You think you are never going to be well, because, like I said, this is normal. The hardest part about dealing with an incurable disease is finding hope. When you are told that you are the sickest patient your specialist has seen, or that there is no cure, or when your doctor constantly throws out the word "Surgery" it is easy to give up on hope. You pray for hope. You become jealous. You look around, and see the way the people around you live, what they drink, and in such excess, what they eat and how unhealthy, but it doesn't matter. They are not sick. You can't understand why you can follow Christ, why you can abstain from all the youthful lusts, and why you are the one stricken with this disease. Jealousy.
More to come.
