BARBARA'S TCHATZKAHS

I've heard it. Many of the other invisibly, chronically ill people I know hear it too. That comment: "You look fine" or "you don't LOOK sick." It used to make me mad - now I just feel disrespected. There are still a handful of people in my life who knew me before. Before I was swept out of life's current by something I can't see. Before I put on a lot of weight due to illness, drugs and surgeries -- and despite appropriate exercise and a healthy diet. Before I spent 75% of my time in bed. This thing I am now? I don't even recognize it. The next time someone tells you they are ill when they look fine - before you make that comment - think. Can you SEE a headache? Can you see early stages of cancer? What does a person who is trying to handle pain look like? Are they ' well ' if they don't have a cane? (By the way, I should use one - I just refuse.) And what is God trying to tell us all with these illness? To be less jud...

Living with an invisible disability isn't easy. Living with any disability can be soul-wrenching. But the invisibly disabled get a special sort of prejudice and disdain from the healthy public that has to be one of the circles of Dante's hell. Hard enough that we have to go through rounds of doctors to finally ferret out what is wrong with us; only to be accused of doctor shopping . But when we finally are diagnosed, many of us have to give up our dignity, our dreams and a lot of people we considered friends don't stick around too long, either. Yesterday I had to go to pick up some medication with one of my children. I pulled into the handicapped spot and put up my placard. When I came out I went around to the back of my car and pulled a small box out to place it in the back seat for easier access when I got home. As I was getting back into the driver's seat I noticed a woman standing on the passenger side of my car, looking it up and down... glaring. ...

LIVES DERAILED Excerpted from The Autoimmune Epidemic: Bodies Gone Haywire in a World Out of Balance -- and the Cutting-Edge Science that Promises Hope ~~~~~~~~ Most of us, at some juncture in our lives, have played out in our minds how devastating it would be to have our doctor hand down a cancer diagnosis or to warn us that we are at risk for a heart attack or stroke. Magazine articles, television dramas, and news headlines all bring such images home. But consider an equally devastating health crisis scenario, one that you rarely hear spoken about openly, one that receives almost no media attention. Imagine the slow, creeping escalation of seemingly amorphous symptoms: a tingling in the arms and fingers, the sudden appearance of a speckled rash across the face, the strange muscle weakness in the legs when climbing stairs, the fiery joints that emerge out of nowhere -- any and all of which can signal the onset of a wide range of life-altering and often debilitating autoimmu...

Being diagnosed with a chronic disability can be very devastating. I'm not throwing a pity-party here, just sharing some insight. I went through every single one of the stages in this article and sometimes I back up and do them again. With the return of hot weather, I have been in terrible flare. I read JOB a lot and his bargaining and arguing with Hashem. I relate. I hate being like this. HATE IT. There is no relation between the me I am now and the person I was. My own children will never know the person I was. I grieve that a lot. One of my own late parents (who was pathologically disordered) told my ex-husband to "leave me" because I was "useless to him" now. It took me years to give away the power suits I wore to work or auditions. Now, I have thrown myself into motherhood - the best I can - the way I threw myself into work projects. Being disabled means you are part of an underclass that is neither to be seen or heard. Maybe because we invi...

By Lisa Copen (excerpts) "I don't understand why you won't at least take his phone number; he's a Christian and he specializes in herbal remedies. He could heal you and then you could share his success with everyone and that could be your ministry…" I was standing in the buffet line at a special dinner for committee members of an international revival that had come to town. Some would go as far to say that those attending this dinner were the who's who of local women in ministry, and I was proud to be among their company. Despite their involvement and leadership in ministry, however, this group of women was healthy-bodied and provided many examples for me to share about how, as a church body, we can increase our awareness and understanding of those who live with chronic conditions. When one committee member asked why I was appointed as the disabilities coordinator I shared a few words about my ministry. She in turn asked me what drugs I was on because ...

In 1995 I was working hard at a large, "white shoe" corporate law firm. They had offered me manager training and I said no. The politics at this place were such that if you weren't a "yes" person - you didn't get anywhere. Sorry, I am not a "yes" person. I had re-entered counseling after 10 years of infertility treatment had yielded yet no results. My marriage was circling the bowl. I not only didn't feel like a woman - I felt like nothing. I buried myself in work. I became the go-to person the partners or most demanding lawyers would call to help with whatever cases they were on. I worked evenings so when most people were on their way home, I was on my way to Wall Street. I worked in a dark, airless office. My work was highly detail oriented and often very sensitive & confidential in nature. It started slowly. And I kept attributing my symptoms to something else. Allergies, stress, PCOS. The metallic taste in my mouth, the buzzing in ...

"Get over it", "It can't be that bad", "move on", "its all in your head", "you're nuts", "I would hope you've gotten past this by now", "just don't think about it", "you're like a broken record"... I've heard it all. Most chronically, invisibly disabled people have heard it. As if we could just make it all go away with willpower. Unfortunately for some of us, being Type A Personalities and using force of will helped put us in the positions we are now. People like me spend a lion's share of their day dealing with their symptoms and managing pain. Aside from the enormous amount of time I owe & dedicate to my children, my disability demands to be next on my list and won't take "NO" for any answer. I used to have a wonderful social life - but disability isolated me. Most of my friends now are people I have met online with whom I have a common bond. Thos...