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CHRONIC ILLNESS
Marking Lookout Points
How I envision the chronic illness cycles and keep going
Every time we drive back to our home near the top of a Georgia mountain, I am reminded of the journey of chronic illness. When down in town doing our grocery shopping or dropping off a package, we look back towards home and see only low clouds.
As we start the drive back up, we inevitably see the same sights while we wind and climb. We pass an overlook. The metal fence makes it an unappealing stop for anything except letting a faster car pass.
After another few miles, there is a spacious lookout spot perfect for trunk picnics and taking selfies with the haze of the Blue Ridge mountains and twinkle of small town Georgia as a backdrop.
From this higher vantage point, the lower lookout is fully visible and we see how very close it actually is to town, barely elevated at all it seems. Eventually, we turn left from the sunset and know our house is hidden several swerves and ear pops ahead. Up there, I can see neither. I face another mountain and its changing seasons instead.
There’s a date in March like those lookout points for me. On that day nine years ago, I went to the doctor out of breath and returned home six days later with multiple chest tube and scalpel…
