“… and there’s nothing left to say.”
Chronic illness is…well, chronic. For the most part, not only does it not end, but it remains the same.
Of course there are changes, developments, progressions – but these are generally subtle in nature and may vary between individuals.
Perhaps our Loved One is slowly but surely declining.
Or maybe their sickness fluctuates without rhyme or reason. Some days they are well, others they are not.
Or perhaps there is simply no visible change at all, just a long, monotonous pain.
Continue reading “Help! People keep asking after my chronically sick family member…”
It’s difficult to care as much about something when you’re not confronted with it every day.
We are often more distressed about our 3 year old’s tantrum than a war in a 3rd world country. What we see and experience affects us.
Watching from a distance feels less ‘real’
What we experience personally seems more real, not only because we are a firsthand witness but because it actually disrupts our life.
Thus, it is more difficult to Watch when we do not see our Loved One regularly. It is genuinely hard to place as much importance on their struggles.
Not because our love is less, but because it makes up less of our day.
What should we do?
Continue reading “Long distance Watching (Part 2)”
It is a blunt title, and yet… it’s true.
‘Being there’ for someone else changes nothing
Nil. Zero. Nought.
That, my friends, is the reality.
As Watchers, we are not needed. We cannot actually do anything. Life goes on and we Watch, and nothing changes.
If there was a list entitled ‘how to change the world’, Watching wouldn’t be on there.
Try as we might, we cannot fix the situation.
We can’t heal our Loved Ones. We can’t be their knight in shining armour and swoop down onto the battle field and sweep them off their feet and carry them to safety.
Continue reading “Watching changes nothing”
Perhaps you have been here:
A knock at the door.
It’s a friend, a neighbour. She has just popped over for a chat.
She holds a covered dish:
‘Cooked a bit extra and thought you could do with a home cooked meal’.
She asks how we are, how our Loved One is.
She complains for a while about her work, and how tired she is from the high tea she went to on the weekend. She has another date with friends in a few days but unfortunately it coincides with the birthday of a family member:
‘It’s always the way isn’t it? Everything at once, so frustrating.’
She shifts on the door step:
‘Ah well, no rush to return the dish – we’ll be away for a few weeks.
Going on a cruise. Just a small one. I’m a bit worried actually, I’m terrified I’m coming down with a cold. There’s nothing worse than a sniffly nose!
Anyway, got to rush, I have a hair dressers appointment this afternoon. All the best!’
You juggle the still-warm meal and close the door, the hot smell of cheese and silver foil clouding the air.
After the door is firmly shut and the neighbour out of sight, you give the wood a short, hard kick.
It’s not fair!
Continue reading “Why aren’t I allowed to say that chronic illness is not fair?”
As we know, chronic illness goes on and on and on.
There is no end, no use by date. This is a problem.
Because we are only human. We find it difficult to stretch out our emotions. A state of perpetual excitement, for example, is extremely difficult to maintain.
So is a state of sympathy.
Yet what happens when the tragedy has not passed (and may not pass) and our sympathetic feelings, our desire to be involved, our sadness in what is, has come to an end?
Do we simply give up?
Do we stop Watching?
First of all let us ask ourselves a probing question:
Why is lack of sympathy a problem?
Why is it a problem that we no longer feel interested in our Loved One’s suffering? Why is it an issue that we don’t wince as they wince any longer?
Is it really that wrong?
I suspect we want to instinctively answer ‘yes’. Yes, there is something wrong when we don’t care about suffering anymore.
That answer is right.
But it’s also wrong.
Everything becomes normal
Continue reading “4 things to do when you run out of sympathy”
Is there anything worse than seeing someone you love suffer? When my little sister was in hospital for three months, I thought many times it would be easier if it were me instead.
Me with a brain tumour.
Me shaking in pain.
Me screaming in agony.
But I wasn’t given the option to exchange lives. And you probably haven’t been either.
So in the name of honesty here are 7 reasons why watching someone you love suffer is the worst: are these reasons the same for you?
Continue reading “7 Reasons Watching someone you love suffer is the WORST”