First Published: Posted on February 11, 2014
The place of telling stories of illness has a long history in Western medicine. I will explore this history in some detail in a soon to follow post, as will I brush over the concept of what constitutes ‘a narrative’ however today I want to write about an aspect of illness prompted by a phrase I heard on the midday interview between Margaret Throsby and David Whish-Wilson on ABC Classic FM.
Whish-Wilson talked of the Australian city of Perth in 1956 as an unprepossessing place for newcomers who could easily dismiss it as not worth getting to know. However George Sedden, a Canadian immigrant, who on arrival was shocked at how small and rough the city was, decided that “instead of giving up on it, he[would become] curious about it.” This act of choosing how to position oneself in relationship with another thing/person/event reminded me of the many times during this illness I have chosen to re-negotiate my ever changing relationships with so many things.
I was aware early on in this illness that if I positioned myself in a fixed way, all the changes and hassles that were presenting themselves would quickly overwhelm me. I would ‘give up on it’ and the illness would be the measure of my days and who and how I am in the world. I have long held an idea of myself as being a very curious person, an identity claim I hold quite dear. I decided I would have to bring this curiosity into my daily living as I negotiated the twists and turns of this disease.
There is a passage in ‘An Imaginary Life’ by David Malouf that I have held to in times of change. “What else should our lives be but a continual series of beginnings, of painful settings out into the unknown, pushing off from the edges of consciousness into the mystery of what we have not yet become, except in dreams that blow in from out there bearing the fragrance of islands we have not yet sighted in our waking hours as in voyaging sometimes the first blossoming branches of our next landfall come bumping against the keel, even in the sark, whole days before the real land rises to meet us.” Not only do I love the long, long sentence, but I love the promise and excitement promised in this notion of change.
There is frequently an excitement in changes we have generated, the anticipation, challenge, opportunity, adventure and risk of misadventure. However when illness insinuates itself into a life, there is little choice in that change. For me the change was oppressive, imposed and limiting. I realised one of the opportunities available to me was how I might have a relationship with that initial and ongoing event . I decided that given I hadn’t orchestrate the change, the very least I could do was be curious about it.
Sounds good in print no? The reality of this task while living with ongoing pain, endless tests, trial-ing medications, having a hijacked life and career, and experiencing an ever increasing isolation, the commitment to holding-on to curiosity was quite a task. The idea of giving up on negotiating the relationship was seductive.
Illness Narratives 