I was walking my parents' dog and a total stranger asked me, "Are you feeling better?" She had recognized the dog, though she and I had never met. Apparently my father told her about me. I have no idea what he said, though it was probably inaccurate: he doesn't understand my condition and seems to think I'm just lazy.
I really don't know how to answer this question, whether I know the person or not. I say, "Thanks, I'm ok."
But here's what I'm thinking:
Yes, I have recovered from the surgery itself.
No, it didn't help.
Yes, I'm still sick.
No, I don't know why I'm still sick. Maybe it's scar tissue. Maybe my CSF flow wasn't totally restored. Maybe I have an undiagnosed condition, in addition to the Chiari. I have no idea.
Yes, I told my doctor.
No, he doesn't believe me.
No, I can't go running with you.
No, I can't work an 8 hour day. I can't stay awake, I can't focus, I can't think straight and I'm always in pain, even if it's not excruciating, organ-failure-type pain.
No, I don't have a "plan."
Yes, I do feel helpless and sad, at times. I am grieving for my lost self. I'm also angry.
No, that does not mean I should see a psychiatrist. It means I am frustrated with feeling like crap all the time and being dismissed by everyone around me, especially doctors. I am not mentally defective, nor am I a danger to self or others. I just feel like crap.
No, I don't feel comfortable answering your questions. Why do you ask them? What do you gain from this exchange?
If you know nothing about my problem and don't care to learn, if you feel no empathy and can't offer any help, then why are you asking?
Are you rubbernecking?
Am I like reality TV?
Do you think if you pressure me into saying I'm fine, then I'll really be fine? My symptoms will disappear because, in your view, they were fake to begin with? Do you think somebody needs to set me straight and it might as well be you?
Are you just curious?
Or do you need to be needed? Are you trying to prove to yourself, how helpful you are?
If you were in bed with the flu and I came bursting into the room yelling, "Time's up!" and dragged you out of your house to run a marathon, would you be grateful?
Well, for me, "normal" is like having the flu every day and meeting your expectations is like trying to run a marathon with a fever in bedroom slippers.
But I just say, "Thanks. I'm ok."