If there is such a
thing as “compassion fatigue” – and I think there is, there must be something
like it for those of us who are developing new lives after being really, really
sick.
You will recall compassion fatigue. It was the discussion de jour after Katrina and that other
hurricane, and something else bad happened that I can’t remember, and of course
all of the charitable organizations were doing their regular fundraising – then
some bright spark decided that people were getting tired of contributing, even
though they were hugely sympathetic.
So, for those of us who are recovering from this and that…I
have discovered that there is such a
thing as survivor fatigue.
It is to be noted that I do not like the word “survivor”
used in relation to me. “Survivors” are people on that TV show, or they have
lived through a shipwreck and are spelling out “SOS” in the sand.
But, there isn’t really any word that is better, doggone it.
(Insert suitable curse words here: consarn it, dagnab it, or anything else
Gabby Hayes would say. And if you are not familiar with Mr. Hayes career, you
are the poorer for it.)
In the early days of recovery, one is filled with a passion
fueled by sheer terror to get better, stronger…not only to be back to “normal”
(whatever that was) but to be better than that. At least I was. I was pushing for
110%, minimum.
And it may be that I have succeeded. Although I have some
deficits, I can hide most of them. I am filled with gratitude and try to show
it.
And yet, I am so very tired of working this hard to make
sure everyone (least of all, myself) knows that I have come ROARING back,
better than ever.
I do agree it is somewhat tiresome to have to even remember you were ill. I do not think about it and then it kind of slaps me around a little. Oh well life goes on.
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