Confessions of a (chronically ill) graduate student

Today, I nearly cried.

Today someone offered to go grocery shopping for me.

She prodded me to give her a list of what I could and could not eat. She helped figure out what I needed. She didn’t care that in a few days I should be well enough to shop on my own – the important thing was making sure I had food I could eat now.

I am so blessed.

I am so ill, or am recovering from some test or procedure, etc., so much of the time that I would think no one would bother at all. I frequently feel that I’m a burden. Chronically ill = chronically needy. Why should anyone keep caring? But yet they do. And in such a way — the gentle ping of a text, “going to the store, need anything?” – the positive FB message “how about some…?” – the slightly more forceful call of “ok, so how about just what you need now? Have you eaten? What do you have planned for dinner?” —  that it makes me feel like I’m not some burden or good-deed prize for the day. She cares. So do many others in my life.

I am so blessed.

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