Happy Father’s Day to all of the dads, dads-to-be, grandfathers and father figures today!
I wanted to take a moment and talk about fathers and the role they can play in chronic illness, specifically my Dad. Chronic illness isn’t something that just appears one day, many times it is an illness that has been with us most of our lives, possibly even undiagnosed. Diagnosis or not, illness places a huge strain on the entire family. I want to be clear, moms are superwomen and I am not forgetting everything moms do in this journey, because it is a TON, but today being father’s day I’m focusing on Dads.
As the sick person, often there are many, many negative people along the journey. Some think the illness isn’t real, some doctors misdiagnose the illness, some doctors make you feel crazy, some friends are lost, the list goes on. With all of the negativity on top of the illness itself, your father can play a critical role in being the human anchor and protector in all of the madness. I specify human, because ultimately, God is my anchor and protector, but He blessed me with my Dad to help here on Earth. My dad has never looked at me like I’m crazy, never believed the doctors that said nothing was wrong with me, stood up to insurance to fight for my treatments, driven across the country for doctor visits, moved me into and out of short term housing during treatment several times, stayed with me for months during treatment, the list goes on.
I remember one doctor in particular, told me that my muscle degeneration was because I had laid on the couch too much and I should try to be more active and I would be all better. I thought I was going to get arrested for assaulting a doctor, but my dad calmly told the doctor he didn’t know what he was talking about and got me out of the room as fast as possible to avoid an arrest, protecting me from both the doctor and myself.
Stereo-typically, dads like to “fix” things but there is no “fixing” chronic illness. Chronic illness is there and we are along for the journey, and while I can tell he wants to “fix” it so badly, he has never pushed me away or questioned my illness just because he can’t. I cannot imagine having to watch my little girl go through this journey with no “fix” in sight, but he has done it with such love and grace.
I gave my dad a picture frame a couple decades ago with a voice recording that said, “Thank you Dad for always being there to lean on.” That frame has ran out of batteries several times now and I keep replacing the batteries and re-recording because it is still just as true today as it was then.
Love you Dad!
