Yesterday I stood in the shoes of my patients. Although for a short period of time, it was a firm reminder of what some people struggle with everyday. Invisible disease is pervasive in our society, it is everywhere, and yet because it is invisible, it is nowhere. We as humans are flawed in that sometimes when we can't see something, we don't believe it is there. But for the person experiencing it, it is all too real.
I suffer from chronic knee issues from an overuse biking injury, worsened by having congenital flat feet. Most days, I keep it well controlled (thank you orthotics), but some days the pain makes it harder to walk. In and out of physio for years, I've never been able to be completely pain free. I never walk 100% pain free but I can usually get up to 95%. However, I can rarely stand for long periods of time without pain (I have trouble in the anatomy lab and yes this is something that worries me for clerkship). Yesterday, I needed to hop a bus go to the other end of the city and I knew that ride would take about 45 minutes. I tried to arrive at the bus stop 15 minutes early to guarantee a seat but the line was already stretching around the corner. When I boarded the bus, all the seats were full. After a few minutes of standing the pain began to escalate. I knew I wouldn't last the whole ride so I just kicked aside some of the dirt, sat down on the bus floor, and just rubbed my knees to help alleviate the pain.To my surprise, the people around me just stared at me with this look of repulsion. No one seemed to be asking themselves "Is she okay?", but more like "Eww how can she sit on the floor, that is disgusting, what a weirdo". They averted my eyes when I tried to make eye contact, and of course no one offered me a seat (and after those looks, I didn't dare ask for one). Thankfully after 25 minutes a seat opened up, but this experience had me reflecting on how different this situation would have been if I had had a bandage around my knees or crutches.
While I sat on the floor I honestly felt a little humiliated, like I was less than human. All because of how people looked at me. Sadly, this is the kind of thing that people with invisible illness encounter everyday, sometimes many times a day. The moral of the story is something that Disney movies and cliches have been trying to teach us for years: you cannot judge a book by its cover. You cannot tell if a person is sick or suffering just by looking at them. Many people have become experts at hiding their invisible illnesses to further avoid unpleasant experiences like the one above. This may be especially true for people suffering from mental illness, which is even more stigmatized in our society than physical illnesses (this will probably get its own blog post at some point).
So the next time you see a young person taking an elevator up one floor, or someone who looks able-bodied using handicap parking, or someone who is asking for more time off work for mental health reasons when they look "fine" don't judge them. Yes there is always the possibility that they are lazy or "scamming the system", but those people make up a small percentage of society. Step back for a minute and give them the benefit of the doubt, because there may be more going on than you realize.
I suffer from chronic knee issues from an overuse biking injury, worsened by having congenital flat feet. Most days, I keep it well controlled (thank you orthotics), but some days the pain makes it harder to walk. In and out of physio for years, I've never been able to be completely pain free. I never walk 100% pain free but I can usually get up to 95%. However, I can rarely stand for long periods of time without pain (I have trouble in the anatomy lab and yes this is something that worries me for clerkship). Yesterday, I needed to hop a bus go to the other end of the city and I knew that ride would take about 45 minutes. I tried to arrive at the bus stop 15 minutes early to guarantee a seat but the line was already stretching around the corner. When I boarded the bus, all the seats were full. After a few minutes of standing the pain began to escalate. I knew I wouldn't last the whole ride so I just kicked aside some of the dirt, sat down on the bus floor, and just rubbed my knees to help alleviate the pain.To my surprise, the people around me just stared at me with this look of repulsion. No one seemed to be asking themselves "Is she okay?", but more like "Eww how can she sit on the floor, that is disgusting, what a weirdo". They averted my eyes when I tried to make eye contact, and of course no one offered me a seat (and after those looks, I didn't dare ask for one). Thankfully after 25 minutes a seat opened up, but this experience had me reflecting on how different this situation would have been if I had had a bandage around my knees or crutches.
While I sat on the floor I honestly felt a little humiliated, like I was less than human. All because of how people looked at me. Sadly, this is the kind of thing that people with invisible illness encounter everyday, sometimes many times a day. The moral of the story is something that Disney movies and cliches have been trying to teach us for years: you cannot judge a book by its cover. You cannot tell if a person is sick or suffering just by looking at them. Many people have become experts at hiding their invisible illnesses to further avoid unpleasant experiences like the one above. This may be especially true for people suffering from mental illness, which is even more stigmatized in our society than physical illnesses (this will probably get its own blog post at some point).
So the next time you see a young person taking an elevator up one floor, or someone who looks able-bodied using handicap parking, or someone who is asking for more time off work for mental health reasons when they look "fine" don't judge them. Yes there is always the possibility that they are lazy or "scamming the system", but those people make up a small percentage of society. Step back for a minute and give them the benefit of the doubt, because there may be more going on than you realize.
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