Welcome To My Island


Welcome to my Island.

You may think it looks big at first. I know I did. 1 in 200 sure seems big. But each day, I feel my Island getting smaller and smaller.

Still, our tribe is pretty big. You would think that will all of our tribe members, no one would ever be lonely, but it is. So much so. You see, while we each have much in common in our tribe, we are all just trying to survive life on this Island. It is exhausting, and it’s all we can do to stay afloat. Some days it’s all we can do to wave at one another, or trade knowing glances between one another.

Now, there are other tribes on this Island. Unfortunately, they tend to stay away. We try our best to look approachable, but I think they might be scared of us.

I have met a few of them, and as different as we may be, I treasure our time together. In our tribe, we use different words then they do, but to be honest I cherish those talks. I NEED those talks. It feels so good to have a conversation without using words like Mychoplasma, OCD, PANDAS, titers, Strep, labs, IVIG, and so many more. I think it may make the other tribe feel as if they can’t relate, but I pray they don’t give up on us. We need them. I need them.

As exotic as Island life sounds, it’s hard. This Island is riddled with land mines, and even has an active volcano. We tiptoe around everywhere we go, because if we don’t the consequences are devastating.

The weather here is also terrible. You can be laying on the beach, soaking up the warm rays of the sun one minute, and the next minute you are being pounded on by freezing rain. There are no weathermen here, as there’s no predicting what it’s going to look like. Each morning is a complete suprise.

I sometimes stand on a hill and watch the members of the other tribe as they go about their lives. They seem so carefree and happy. I’m sure they are. But I also see how much they worry about little things. A light rain could have them scurrying around their village trying their best to stay dry.

Some days I wish I was part of their tribe. Some days I am jealous of them. But then I think about the gifts that cone with being part of my own tribe, on this Island. We tend to see things more clearly. We celebrate the small victories. The storms don’t scare us quite as much as they used too. And we are strong. We are resilient. We are resourceful.

While I am grateful for each of those gifts, I still get excited each time I see a rescue boat in the distance, or hear the hum of a helicopter overhead. Some days they are so close that I know they have to see us. But, so far none have come to our island. Maybe they can’t find a clear spot to land. Or maybe the undertow is just to strong for any boat to get through. I just hope that they keep trying.

Are you part of my tribe? Or maybe the other tribe? Or perhaps you are flying the helicopter, or driving the rescue boat? Wherever you find yourself, I pray that you just keep going. Please don’t give up on us. On me. On you.

Welcome to my Island.

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