A review of Cheri Register's book "Living With Chronic Illness"

Cheri Register's book "Living With Chronic Illness" was both validating and helpful to me.
Eight years of living with chronic migraines has effected my faith, self-image, independence, relationships, work aspirations and what I consider my purpose in life.
At first I tried to minimize the migraines disabling effect but over time and with more acceptance I have, for the most part, found ways to accommodate and live with them.
Register describes many of the challenges of living with chronic illness. Sickness in our culture is seen as an enemy to be fought and defeated. These war images cast chronically ill people as victims, and it's sometimes seen as a character defect if we experience suffering, grief or fear. Instead of “battling” the illness we can accept it as something we live with that is our normal state of being. The realization that we can be happy and sick is a major lesson.
Our culture expects a person's disability to be a test of character or an opportunity for heroism. People effected with illness should not have to prove their value to others. We are not better or worse, no more heroic or cowardly, strong or weak than healthy people. We are people first not a disease.
Register also warns that an over emphasis on the mind-body connection and healing yourself puts the blame on the chronically ill and leads to a deeper sense of failure. Health and perfection are seen as normal although sickness and imperfection are more the rule. No matter how sophisticated our intellectual acceptance of the illness, our emotions always lag behind.
Other hurdles for the chronically ill include: loss of autonomy, (self-reliance and being financially self-supporting carries the imprint of virtue). For the chronically ill not pulling your weight is compounded by the fear of becoming indigent and feeling different. Unemployment not only involves economic loss but the loss of identity, productivity, self worth and a sense of meaning. Register says it is important to separate our economic and identity issues from the quest of human worth. When we accept our illness we can stop looking for a cause to blame or a miracle cure.
Chronic Illness challenges our relationships. Adversity can bring couples closer but with chronic illness the adversity comes and goes on a regular basis. The crisis may even become the core of the relationship. Illness highlights and compounds the gender differences. Females are trained to show emotion and males to hide them. It is easier for women to "be there" for intimacy and shared vulnerability. Women often want simple consolation from their husbands, what they get instead is a rational solution. Seeing their mate sick leaves many men feeling powerless. When a relationship requires sustained expression of thoughts and feelings it may become burdensome for the mate.
Register illuminates patience as a way of life for the chronically ill. Acceptance means taking realistic control over how we live and being ready for chaos. The "one day at a time approach" helps. When pain grows intense it demands complete attention. It also helps to focus on the recovery instead of the traumas.
Most doctors are more comfortable caring for acute illness. When medications do not work the patient rather than the medication is often blamed. Few doctors are honest about the limits of medical knowledge and trust patients enough to be partners in care.
Register acknowledges that anger, fear and grief are healthy responses to physical suffering. The value of catharsis allows us to face the emotions head-on rather than avoid or dismiss them. It is reassuring to hear that having suicidal fantasies are a normal consequence of chronic illness and not evidence of losing hold. Since most people do not act on their suicidal thoughts, considering death as a way out of the pain often diffuses the suffering. Also, when we confront the suicidal fantasy head-on it looses its power. Register even came to regard her own suicidal fantasies as a treasured choice. Knowing that suicidal thoughts are a feature of the illness is empowering.
Instead of asking "why me?" the chronically ill are better served by the question "what now?" And for people of faith we might ask, "what do you want from me God?" which implies not penance but fulfillment of a mission. Instead of seeing chronic illness as a punishment for sin, an endurance test, a divine plan geared to your natural capacity or a random event Register recommends we see chronic illness and suffering as central to the human condition. It is our own share of life's condition - a way of life not an aberration. Register says, to live with passion allows us to live with the dynamics of contradiction in joy and sorrow, caring and indifference, in courage and fear, in friendship and alienation. Passion is a fully human and divine spark that burns with life.
To answer the question "what should I do?" Register says, "Just live your life, pain and all with attention and purpose." Lived fully, the experience of illness can free us from the curse of perfection. For people of faith learning to feel God's pain makes us more attuned to God's pleasure. Life is a beautiful tapestry being woven with our lives, it's pattern visible only to God.
Register redefines the disabled hero as one who demonstrates a capacity to come through multiple ordeals with their will intact. Instead of winners and losers, survivors have moments of courage, moments of cowardice, moments of determination and moments of despair, moments of glory and moments of humiliation. That many of us survive these ups and downs is a miracle that happens many times a day.
Register describes the ingredients of survival for the chronically ill: a sense of humor, tenacity, a will to live, discipline, inner strength, trusting ourselves, inner peace, acceptance, a support system, faith, skepticism, and a belief in a Higher Power and Purpose. Instead of saying, "There but for the grace of God go I" we might say, "Here, with the grace of God, I am." Our bodies are, after all, our medium for experiencing creation.