prognosis

These days I can’t really remember what it felt like to be well, so I’m not always pining after it. I can go for months just plodding along, doing life and trying to climb over each mountain in my path. Feeling unwell is reality and normality. I’m not thinking every two seconds, 

“I have CFS and POTS. I had to withdraw from university and now I stay home and...Wow, all those dreams that I had...all the things I worked for...I wonder when I’ll get better...”

But then sometimes it just hits me. Out of the blue it seems. And I actually realise the full gravity of what has happened.

Tonight was one such night. 

I decided to look on the ME/CFS Australia site and see what the latest studies and research was finding. I was thinking a cure would be good?

I saw a tab at the top of the page:

PROGNOSIS

I clicked it. Impulsive folly. I am always hoping that I will read something which fills me with hope. This evening I felt in particular need of a positive statistic to encourage me that I will recover. I just wanted to read a good cheer up line, saying that 95% of sufferers make a full recovery, most at the 3 years 6 month mark. People are always telling me that it’s just a matter of time, so I will regain my former vigour, right?

It actually read,

"Overall there is wide variation in the duration of illness, with some people recovering in less than two years while others remain ill for decades. Those who have been affected for several years seem less likely to recover; full recovery after symptoms persist more than five years is rare."

2002 study by ME/CFS working group

I actually felt my stomach drop. I’ve never had such a physical reaction to reading something. Those words, so matter of factly typed on the page sent my insides plummeting. Tonight is not one of those nights where I can’t look a life of illness bravely in the face. Counting the years might not be the best idea, but it’s been 3 years, 6 months. I’ve heard it so many times before, the longer one is sick, the less likely they are to fully recover. 

Now, a few minutes after reading it, I’m ok again. I know that I will just make my way through one day, and then I’ll do it over again the next day. I’m in it for the long haul and it’s a hard haul but I’ve survived so far. Maybe clicking ‘prognosis’ isn’t smart move, maybe I should just make myself another cup of tea, give my puppy a cuddle and read my book. Afterall, only God knows my prognosis, and I don’t need to know it. I just need to get through tomorrow.