Wednesday 29 July 2009

My Life as Heidi Klum's Double.

No. No. I'm not Heidi Klum but I can understand your confusion. The likeness is remarkable. Ha! "I don't think so Tim".

Why must people constantly say to me "But you look so well" or my fave "I thought you'd look sicker". What the....!! How am I supposed to respond to that? Apparently I don't look sick enough for some people.

Some days I feel like I should wrap my arms in bandages or grab a cane to walk with. Then I'd look "sick".

I may look like Heidi Klum on the outside, but on the inside I'm holding it together with gaffer tape, hope and a prayer, and the gaffer tape is losing its glue. Where's MacGyver when you need him? I'm sure he'd be able to shore me up with a piece of old chewing gum, a band aid and a paper clip.

What people don't seem to realise is that many chronic illnesses, like Bob, are primarily invisible. No one sees the internal crap that goes on. Just cause my super model good looks are showing doesn't mean I'm not feeling like death warmed up on the inside. If I was a house my innards wouldn't even be classed as a renovators delight. When I'm standing talking to you at the shopping centre a whole different dialogue going on inside:

"Ok I have about 5 more minutes before I'm going to have to leave. Damn my legs are starting to get shakey. Tense my calf muscles. Tense. Release. Tense. Release. Damn there go my hands. Pins and Needles. What? Oh yeah, I hear that Jenny's mum was going to the concert. Pump my hands. Pump my hands. Oh crap nausea starting. Swallow it down, swallow it down. Tense. Release. Tense release. Ok where's the closest stacking stool to sit down on? Ok, just over there. Tense. Release. Pump. Pump. Damn, dizziness starting. Focus Michelle, focus. What did she say? Damn, keep talking, keep talking. Any words will do. Nod meaningfully. Ok nausea rising, this isn't looking good. Yep. We will be going to the concert. Ok legs hold out just a little bit longer, just a couple more minutes, you can do it. Concentrate Michelle. Damn it concentrate. Getting shakey, crap vision going, wind in the ears. Crap. Pump. Pump. Tense. Release. Tense. Release. Uh Oh. She's looking at me meaningfully waiting for an answer. Damn what were we talking about. Penguins? No. Basketball. May be. Hmmmm. Concert that's right. Ok. Ok. Need to ask her about the.... what's the word? The stuff, the what you wear, the, the, the.....costumes! Ah ha success! Stacking stool 10 steps away. Start stealthly moving toward stool. Tense. Release. Tense......

No one sees the amount of strength, will power and plain old prayer that is required to stand for five minutes chatting about the school concert.

And when you are having a shocker of day you are hardly out and about showing off you pasty faced exhaustion. If you can't stand you can't do your "So You Think You Can Dance' moves at a night club. Duh! Maybe I should start taking photos of my super bad days. Then when the next well meaning person says "You're looking well Heidi. You must be getting better" I can show them my portfolio of pasty chic pictures to prove I'm still sick. Just ask my Husband. He can tell you it's true he's seen me at my worst. Apparently I look like "a bag of shit tied in the middle" some days; and who says the romance fades. Luv you too honey.

Illness isn't always visible people. It's tough looking like a super model some days.


Oops that's right Michelle, my name is Michelle. Say it 20 times my name is Michelle, My name is Michelle.......... I am not a super model, I am not a super model...... :)


  1. the inner thoughts are so true. i suffer from endo and am in constant pain,. and it seems the moment i step out the house EVER i will forsure get nausia at the worst times, and being able to listen/concentrate... HA.

  2. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt! I had the joy of endometriosis for many years, so I can empathise big time. That pain is not "periodic" it is constant only the degree ever changed for me. Had a hysterectomy when I was 25 after too many years of pain and other associated features. For me it was the best thing I ever did as it gave me my life back (Well until Bob came into the picture) but it's not for everyone. I was told by a doc that I would not be able to have kids 3 months after I got married (I was 20) which was rather traumatic as you can imagine. I was lucky though and have 2 beautiful boys. Like Bob it's one of those invisible things that no one can understand unless they live it. It is not period pain, it is not relieved with an aspirin and a hot water bottle and you can't just "get over it"! It's amazing how many women have it at least thanks to the internet we can support each other. :)

  3. yeah, support though internet is nice, but it looks like right now my SO is the one who really needs the suppory, my always in pain, unable to function, (let alone work or school) is tearing him apart.

    (ps this is still shell i just was loged into the wrong account last time i comented.)

  4. The internal dialogue. Worse than the physical symptoms, I can only assume. Or rather, I can only assume the lack of separation between the two realms.

    Worlds could be built on the foundation of human patience. The school concert conversation. The weather.

    I really appreciate your insight, both here and in your comment on my blog.

    Thanks for sharing.

  5. Hannah = thanks so much from stopping by. The internal dialogue is a bastard to try and silence, mine seems to have a life of it's own. Sometimes I can relegate it to wordless mumblings in a dark corner other times it's a deafening roar in my ears.

    Your writing is incredible but I know as much as I say it you will always be the harshest critic. I applaud the way you traverse familial relations (well all human relations really) as a reader it pulls you into that visceral pull and push that we never fully understand. I can't wait for your book to come out.

  6. Thanks as always... Had a small version of this today, feeling good, walking around the city, picking up the kid, took him to Central park and then suddenly couldn't get up out of the sandbox! In one New York minute, I went from, hey I'm a MILF (ok, at 52, more GMILF) to geriatric stuck in sand! It's a crazy life...

    1. GMILF made me laugh. But wish you didn't have to deal with the crapness, Mel. xx


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