Today my youngest son graduated from kindergarden. I have shed so many tears this morning, when I saw my two year old boy amongst his buddies, receiving his “diploma”, some sweets and his graduation hat. Three years ago, I was not even sure whether I would be alive in 2018 … and it was uncertain whether I would be able to keep my baby.
A few years ago, I would have defined “achievement” in a different way. Being chronically ill, I have learned to set my goals with greater flexibility. Looking back at this year which is soon going to end, I see that I have done all the things that I wanted to do, although I had to alter my schedule various times.
My chronic disease is an invisible one, which means that there will always be quite a lot of things you don’t see by just looking at me. In summer, I went to my home country where I wanted to meet up with each and everybody. I had a booming social life and was surprised by my own activity level. People who know about my CLL are usually disappointed when we meet, because there is not much to see. I will tell you about the things none of them could see while I was partying.
On the surface, your life and mine might not seem that different. We get up, we work, we have lunch. Let me compare an average morning. But this time, I will describe what is really going on. Not just the things you see. I will let you have a look at what goes on beneath the tip of the iceberg and unveil my invisible life.