My dad has more illnesses than are really medically sustainable in a human body. He has had testicular cancer and has one defective lung, half of a malfunctioning heart, sciatica, scoliosis, type one diabetes (that was diagnosed as type two for seven years), an overactive (which was once under-active) thyroid, asthma, and a few other various issues. His eyesight is so poor that he has thirteen different prisms in his glasses (last time I checked). And not a single one of those things has ever stopped this man from being incredible.
Now, when you look at my father...
...you probably don’t see the very sick, yet always determined man that I grew up with. My dad, just a few years ago, could have probably still outrun me at any distance. In fact, his body, from his years in the National Guard, never once seemed to deteriorate in my childhood. It is only recently that his list of invisible disease has become apparent, and he still, often, tries to push through whatever road blocks they give him. He always wants to “keep pushin’”.
So, what do you do when this happens—when your invisible disease rears its head to the surface?
Here are some tips that others use: https://familyshare.com/804/5-tips-for-coping-with-an-invisible-illness .
For my dad, his saving grace came by way of a child name Jordyn Grace. He began babysitting her right around the time that his health took a turn for the worst.
(DISCLAIMER: I have another niece that I love very, very much, too.)
For many people with diabetes, family becomes an important rock to ground oneself, too. With all of my siblings out of the house and my mother being the only one able to work a full-time job, Dad was left alone a lot of the day with nothing but his own interests and housekeeping to do.
Jordyn, now that she can speak, walk, and play games, helps him every day. She even knows when it is time to take his shot. She stands right beside him and says, “Push!”, because she knows Papa needs his medicine to stay alive. Whenever he gets frustrated, she pats him on the head or shoulder and says, “It’s okay, Papa.” Her presence really keeps my dad going some days. They are best buddies.
Invisible disease are hard. It’s even harder to face them when they decide to show thier ugly face. One thing many of us with Invisible Disease has learned is: When we feel alone and scared, it is never wrong to ask someone to accompany us.
If a little girl can do it, our best friends and family certainly can, too.
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