It’s in our nature to question, to want answers to explain the world around us and our individual experiences. It begins early as any parent of a toddler can attest. Why? How? What? When? These are empirical questions .. the answers offer us the opportunity to explore, form opinions and gain understanding.
Some people are more willing than others to accept the maybe’s or perhaps’s or possibly’s. Unfortunately, I don’t fall into that category … it’s been a hard sell at best for me and has come with a lot of (mostly) internal kicking and screaming.
There’s a desperation that comes with having an undiagnosed illness. An unrelenting need to have a name .. a reason, for the symptoms … the disabilities. To know why exactly we’re suddenly unable to work and play and live the way we used to. The ever present hope that if only we knew the cause it would come hand in hand with the possibility of treatment that could magically return us to the life we knew.
It’s so tempting to grasp on to any possible explanations offered by doctors even when the data doesn’t support it or our gut tells us it just doesn’t fit.
Saying it was an AHA moment when I was finally able to embrace ‘I don’t know’ is an understatement of grand proportions. It’s freed me in a way .. this open and unlimited platform from where information and experiences can be viewed and considered. Patience has never been one of my better qualities … not by a longshot, but I’m getting there.