The Ill-mannered Patient

Last month I was ill for exactly thirteen years. Involuntarily, I spent most of that time indoors and I developed some rather unusual habits.

Since being on my own means nobody is watching, I stuff my tissues in my bra. Because, yes, that is the easiest way somehow. When I feel the need to blow my nose, one is right there. Occasionally, a glasses cleaning cloth finds its way up there.
My partner was preparing dinner a few weeks ago, when he asked me if I knew where the whisk was. I started patting my chest, but nope, no cooking utensils nor other items from the kitchen were there to be found.

Caring What Someone Else Might Think? Me?

I am not one to talk about symptoms. But by having serious headaches, that lasted twelve to fifteen days accompanying my periods for the last three times in a row, I found out that the hearing protection works best while wearing my fleece hat. Add to that the fact that I am also sensitive to light and you might get an idea of how ridiculous I can look with this outfit plus my sunglasses. And I can do even better than that. Or worse…
Wanting to care for the birds I took the plastic container with the seeds and put on the running shoes of my partner which are by far too large for my feet. Walking into the garden I was suddenly overwhelmed by self-consciousness and hoped none of the neighbors would spot me.
There have been incidents like this before. During tropical days or a heatwave, with the curtains closed, I wear nothing but my knickers and bra… and thigh high compression stockings. Several times, I found myself with one hand on the doorknob while trying to get my feet into my flip flops ~ almost ~ about to pop into the garden. Embarrassment is a constant factor in my life, but even I would be horrified, utterly devastated, to be seen like this. Thankfully, I caught myself just in time.

Bleak And Boring

All this makes me wonder if the world is better off with me being locked up in the house. Imagine me in a tearoom, diner or restaurant with someone from another table would ask me to pass the box with paper napkins or the salt shaker. Immediately followed by me using both hand to pull down the neckline of my T-shirt, poking my nose in between my breasts before declaring the items aren’t there.
I am not sure people would appreciate these weird habits I picked up along the way while being ill with ME. Perhaps the world is a better place with me continuously being a hermit? It would be a bleak and boring, but a less ill-mannered, one nonetheless.

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This post is also available in: Dutch