Stoic AF

*Note – swear alert. The following post contains the F word.

Hey, Lovelies.

Thanks for all your messages of care and love after I disclosed my latest health escapades!

I admit to feeling uncomfortable when you tell me that I am inspirational, or that what I am dealing with is not fair. We will all have our share of suffering. In my experience, suffering is often what shapes and refines us into stronger versions of ourselves, and sometimes better versions of ourselves too.

So, back to how I am coping right now… (For those of you who missed yesterday’s blogpost you can catch up here.)

As most of you are aware, I had an adverse drug reaction, and have ended up with blistered and ulcerated mucosal membranes, among other complications. Your body’s mucosal membranes include your lips and inside of mouth, the inside of your nose, the inside of your eyelids, your trachea (windpipe) and lungs, your stomach and intestines, bladder, urethra, rectum and vagina. So, imagine all of those places blistered and sore. Now try eating. Or drinking. Or bending over. Or blinking.

Ow.

Needless to say I am on a soft foods and liquids only diet right now.

I ate ice-cream for breakfast, so that was kind of a win.

Cool food is sort of soothing. I can’t manage anything too hot. But it still hurts going in. It hurts coming out. I can mostly just breathe through it and manage okay.

Except for peeing.

Peeing bloody hurts! Why? Think of burst blisters and raw skin, and then pour acid (wee) on them. Yeah. Ow. Plus, I have a really sore bladder (that’s raw and blistered too.)

I was texting with my dear friend Carly yesterday, and laughing with her about how bad it was. But also, how tough we can be when it’s needed.

Carly-Jay Metcalfe is one of those in-the-trenches friends. She was with me back in 2016 when I lost my sight after an adverse reaction to a medication meant to treat a hospital-acquired superbug urinary tract infection. She came and stayed at our house in Brisbane with me so Ben could go back to the farm. She helped me to and from the toilet and shower, laughing with me as I cried while I peed (It hurt so much because of surgery and infection), she cut up my food, and she took me out on adventures as my human seeing eye-dog.

Carly gets pain. She has experienced a lot of it in her life.

We are both stoic. Because we have to be.

When you have to front up to frequent medical issues you develop that stoicism over time. As well as a dark sense of humour about it all, because you may as well laugh, right?

But we are not our illnesses. We are more than just our bodies, even though living in them has shaped us.

Right now I am doing my best to be stoic about all bodily functions. It will heal. I tell myself that every day, in every way, I am getting better and better. (That’s my latest affirmation, borrowed from something our dear Great-Aunt Gwen used to say.)

I remind myself that I am stronger than this.
The philosophy of the Stoics really has helped me with that.

And I lean on friends who get it. Other members of the Unreliable Club. Because a shared journey is a blessing when times are tough.

If you are looking for an inspiration read (or a great audiobook), I recommend Carly’s beautiful memoir Breath. She talks about her life with cystic fibrosis, and as the recipient of a double lung transplant. It covers big themes of family and friendship, chronic illness, love, loss, grief, survivor guilt, and trauma with a wicked sense of humor and grace. Carls also talks about death and dying, a subject that has always been close to my heart. You’ll finish the book a better person than when you started – more connected back to yourself, your truth, and your own beautiful life – especially if your own life has been touched by illness, loss, grief and incapacity.

Wishing you health, friendship and a measure of stoicism for whatever trials you may be facing in life.

Much love, Nicole xx

PS – here’s my beautiful friend Carly-Jay Metcalfe and her book BREATH. Image sourced from University of Qld Press