Fear

For me, and I'm sure for many people with chronic illnesses, fear exists in almost everything that we do, everything we come across. One of the things I've found most difficult to deal with is fear of coping. Not about pain, not about how I feel or what I look like but whether I'll be able to do what I want to do at the end of the day.

I meet lots of old friends, who ask me in passing whether I'll go to university. Most, if not all, are shocked when I say that I've been at uni full time this year, because apparently it seems as if I'm far too ill or far too busy with hospitals to attend.

When I look back, I do wonder how I did it. How I managed to pass with merit, attend all my anatomy sessions, lectures, clinical skill sessions and placements, whilst having at least one hospital "commitment" a week. I'm afraid that I won't be able to pull it off again this year, and that I'll totally buckle under the pressure and everything will fall apart before my eyes.

I also have fear that this is a never-ending journey, a journey I'm taking to an unknown destination and I won't know where I'll end up, or if I'll ever be somewhere I can consider "the end". It's a fear of not knowing, and being afraid of walking through somewhere unfamiliar, towards a place that I won't know about until I get there.

Similarly, it scares me to know that my health and wellbeing is in other people's hands as much as mine. Many people may think otherwise and say that things are in my command and are my responsibility. However, it's hard, when some professionals are overbearing and opinionated, more than I'll ever be able to handle. It's difficult to trust someone to do things right when you're asleep, or when you're medicated so much that you are hardly conscious.

The feeling just before being put to sleep is the hardest to fight and deal with every time. Going through it once makes me never want to face it again, and the more times I have to face it, the more afraid I am. The panic of knowing that there's no turning back, and knowing that there's no more time for questions or reassurances feels horrible. It's commitment like no other; committing to letting someone perform surgery and submitting yourself to whatever might happen while you're asleep. I don't like not knowing who will see me, who will move me and have their hands on me.

Since going into anaphylactic shock twice from platelet transfusions, the prospect of any more transfusions fills me with dread, and indeed with fear. Watching those cells enter my body will never be the same again, and I will never be able to have a transfusion without being paranoid, and without someone with me to make sure everything's alright. For me, bad experiences shape my attitudes as much as positive experiences, if not more.

It is more beneficial than anything else to be reassured by people who can gain your trust. Not necessarily family and friends, but also professionals with that air of calm, who do best at allaying your fears and worry. I've found it to be a fact that fear plays a big part in making illness such a negative experience, and for me, nothing makes it better than sharing it, and letting other people in.