My dream bath. My dog’s nightmare.
People don’t understand the loss of control that a lot of us with chronic illnesses and/or disabilities experience:
We don’t have control of our care, what doctors/specialists we see, if doctors will believe us, and if we’ll get the treatment we need.
We don’t have control of what medication or surgeries we can get because of finances, insurance, and doctors not taking the severity of our symptoms seriously.
We don’t have control over the cost of being ill and disabled. We rely on governments and insurance to support us but more often than not, that falls through.
We don’t have control of our independence; we are often stuck in toxic situations or relationships because we can’t afford to leave and we need their care and shelter, despite how bad the situation may be.
We don’t have control over accessibility, where we can go, when we can go, and if we will be accommodated.
We don’t have control over our bodies. New symptoms appear, we decline, and all we can do is wait in uncertainty and see what direction our health is going.
But what we do have control of is our hope.
We hope that we will be able to maintain things enough to get by.
We hope that maybe things will get better.
We hope we’ll find people who support us.
We hope that we will get the care and respect we deserve.
(via chronicillnesstruths)