Illness experience II: A private experience?

I am an open person. Over time, I have grown out of my shyness and, most of the time, I speak my mind. But I am also a private person. I don't like people nosing into my business, just as I don't nose into other people’s affairs.

But as my illness experience accumulates—going for an appointment, getting a diagnosis—I realize that what is personal isn’t always private. I have to tell the receptionist about my condition and ask questions right in front of everyone in the waiting room. I have to ask my colleague to cover my class for me, as a favor, because I need to go for a doctor appointment. I have to call friends and ask for contacts. I have to call people—experts—I don’t know at all, no matter if they show warmth or coolness toward me. I have to tell event organizers I won’t be able to realize my speaking engagements. I have to apologize for missing meetings I have agreed to. And, I have to tell colleagues and team members about my situation when they are planning ahead for what needs to be done when and by whom. It ends up that, no matter how private I am, I have to tell people about my health problem. I don’t mind telling people; breast cancer is not shameful. But, when I am just trying to deal with it myself, I’m not prepared to share so much about myself with so many others. But illness leaves no room for shyness.

I now learn that illness is never a personal experience, not even a family experience. And I don’t like it when people ask me how I am, even though I have never told them anything. Grapevines spread very quickly. I tell myself I need to accept other people’s good intentions. My colleagues care about me. They want to let me know they care. Therefore, I must graciously accept and not push people away.

In illness, you have to come to terms with the fact that you can no longer entirely be your own boss.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.