Sigh… I thought I’d be able to duck into my house before she saw me. No chance. The lady across the street flagged me down and started marching across the street with a sense of urgency. I plastered a smile on my face and welcomed her to my front porch. I was tired and had not been feeling well. In fact, I had felt progressively worse over the entire summer. But, as worn out as I was, I welcomed this neighbor. I wondered what was so important that she had to share.
“I see that you have just gotten home, so I won’t keep you.” she said. “Can I come by on Saturday to talk for a bit?” “Sure.” I said. “I will be at home.” She thanked me and hurried back across the street. I wondered what it could possibly be that she wanted to tell me? Was it some neighborhood gossip? Was she going to run for a seat on the HOA committee? Did she want me to join a network marketing business? I had no idea.
Saturday rolled around and my neighbor came over. After a little small talk, she dropped her bomb. “I have noticed that you have not been walking like you used to. I am concerned because you need to lose more weight.” Wait…what? Did this woman actually come into my house, sit on my couch, and tell me that I am still too fat and need to lose more weight? “Well,” I said with all the graciousness I could muster, “I have not been feeling well this summer.” Apparently my neighbor was monitoring my activity and felt the need to investigate.
“You haven’t been feeling well? All summer? What is going on with you? What is your diet like? You should at least walk. I’m only here because I care.” Again, I deflected her inquiries, but began to feel worn down by her rapid fire questions assaulting me in my living room. I don’t know how I managed to keep my composure, but somehow I got her to leave without any bloodshed. How dare she take it upon herself to ask these pointed, personal health questions. How dare she assume I was lying about not feeling well and that I was just being lazy and not working out. It infuriated me. At this point I could totally relate to pregnant women that describe bellygrabbers who feel it is perfectly OK to molest their bellies and give unsolicited advice about what they should be doing during their pregnancy.
After a summer of doctor appointments and uncertainty, I finally have a diagnosis. I have Crohn‘s 
disease. The diagnosis rocked my world. They don’t talk about being healed of this disease. The language they use is remission – like cancer. The threat of the illness plaguing me for the rest of my life has been a mental, emotional, and spiritual burden. Well meaning people who tell me about someone else they know who has the disease and how awful it is for them, or tell me what I need to be eating, or share some home remedy that helped their friend’s cousin’s co worker’s wife can all take a hike. I feel like they are trying to take the reins of my life. Not being in control of what is going on in my body is quite enough without allowing other people to direct where I go and what I do to preserve my health.
So much has flooded my mind. Will the prescribed treatment work? Will I achieve remission soon? Will I be able to continue working? Will be unafraid to have intimacy with my husband? Will I be able to leave my house for more than 2 hours at a time? I don’t know. What I do know is that God is a healer. What I am choosing to believe is that this sickness is not unto death. Not an emotional death. Not a spiritual death. Not the death of my career. Not even the death of my sex life.