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The Power of Illness
by Vicki McKenna
 Although I have
practiced Chinese acupuncture for many years, I am, like
most of us, a child of 20th century Western culture and
have in the past been treated with allopathic, chemical
medicine. Western medicine looks for the instant cure
and works well with acute illnesses -- polio at the
infective stage is treated with what often amounts to
life saving methods such as the iron lung; bacterial
infections are treated successfully with antibiotics.
Many times since developing Post Polio Syndrome (PPS), I
have longed for this quick fix, but sadly this
approach is useless when it comes to long term chronic
illness. Western medicine is at a loss when faced with
problems such as PPS. Although there are treatments to
help ease the symptoms -- painkillers for the muscle
aches and bromoscriptine to stimulate brain neurones --
there is no instant cure, and there are often side
effects from the drugs used.
The goal of Western
medicine seems to be to blast disease out of existence,
and I think medics feel thwarted and embarrassed at
their apparent 'failure' when it comes to
chronic illness. This repressive attitude towards
sickness comes, I believe, from our modern culture;
there is no place for the weak or slow in the 20/21st
century scheme of things. Life in the present day is
lived at a hectic pace and productivity is the great god
to be worshipped. We have to be seen to be achieving at
home, at school, at work, in all aspects of our lives
until we reach the (often early!) grave.
Chemotherapy and
radiotherapy can bomb and blitz cancer in the
battlefield of the sick body. The term 'heroic'
applied to surgery invokes the idea that we are
valiantly striving against suffering and disease.
Illness is seen as the enemy -- a thief in the night
come to steal away our busy productive lives. We put the
chain on the door to protect ourselves by doubling our
doses of vitamin C, exercising frantically and eating
fiber, morning, noon, and night. We suppress the first
sign of a cold with aspirin, and carry on with a
purposeful air. Illness is seen as a threat to
productivity, and a sick person as one who is not able
to contribute. The vulnerable pack of cards we call
'society' is threatened by illness and disability,
amid fears it may tumble down. How many times have we
experienced the GP (MD) hastily scrawling out a
prescription so that we may return, post-haste, to work.
The Cartesian view of
the universe -- the mechanistic, scientific view widely
held by medicine today -- looks at the body as a machine
that can be repaired. And who would not want to be
'fixed' if it meant feeling fit and well again? The
instant cure is very seductive. To be healthy is
something no one would spurn, and yet, chronic diseases
are here and they are not always fixable. Furthermore,
there is a price to be paid for this quick fix approach.
When we see the body as a machine that is broken and
needs mending, we ignore the possibility that sickness
is a cryptic message, sifting up through the symptoms of
blood sweat and tears, to tell us that we are out of
balance in our lives. We ignore this at our peril. When
symptoms are superficially alleviated the message is
crushed beneath the surface, only to rise again at some
further time and place of illness.
Illness can be seen
as an opportunity to take stock. In ancient Greece,
there were temples with rooms to which sick people could
retreat to be healed by the gods and goddesses. This was
a time of quiet introspection, based on the
understanding that illness is a sacred space where inner
work can be done, so that healing may come from the core
of our being. This means that the goal of healing is
peace of mind, and whether the body is ''fixed '' or not
is irrelevant. It is then a bonus to find the body
rejuvenated, but it is not the primary focus.
The late effects of
polio have made me review my life, and this has been a
painful process. Having had polio as a child, I needed
to overcome my disability in order to be on a par with
the able-bodied world. I viewed the world as
challenging, and felt I needed to prove myself as good
as the next (able bodied person) person. An addiction to
challenge followed as well as a pursuit of overcoming
obstacles. I strove for myself and also to contribute to
the world as a mother and therapist. My attitude was to
pack in as much as I could -- working, socializing,
exercising -- it was all grist to my mill. It was of no
surprise to others when I developed the symptoms of post
polio syndrome.
Frustration, fear,
and despair descended on me at that time and I felt I
would never be able to enjoy my life again. How could I,
if I was not the capable productive woman I had always
been? In my mind there was no room for change -- I
wanted to get back to that busy life style that felt so
rewarding. Slowly, I had to face and accept the fact
that my catalogue of symptoms was not going to vanish
away and my old life and identity needed to change.
To see that there is
a purpose to suffering is not to romanticize it, but it
does make it more bearable and, hopefully,
understandable. It seems to me possible that Life
chooses for some of us to be active, healthy achievers
in order for work to be done out in the world. It could
also be possible that life chooses for some others of us
to be sick or disabled, in order that deeper work of
growth is done on behalf of the collective. I believe
that we are all part of a web of life -- each a part of
the whole. I therefore believe that I, as part of you,
experience PPS in order to contribute to our wholeness.
What I have to contribute now is perhaps not as tangible
as the work I was able to do when I was fit and well,
but I feel that the work of growth is as valid as my
previous contribution. I am now able to look at my life
with more of an overview and hopefully my insights might
help others.
It seems to me that
the part the late effects of polio have played in my
life to help bring about transformation is to have me
learn to let go of old outmoded ways of thinking and
feeling and behaving. Attachment to achieving, pushing
on through life without regard for mind or body, has
placed much stress on my central nervous system. I have
perceived the world as a challenge, and myself as a
warrior woman, ready to take on the battle it presents.
I have seen life as a struggle in which I need to prove
myself, an exam in which I need to come out top. Slowly
I have come to realize that I need to change my
perception of life, and start to live as Buddhists might
say, with an attitude of "Mindfulness".
Mindfulness involves
letting go of old conditioned attitudes and perceptions
in order to appreciate what is, and so allow the flow of
life's energy. How to let go? It seems to me that
letting go is not truly possible unless it is a movement
towards, or into, another state of being. We cannot let
go of the familiar ways of reacting and behaving,
however undermining they may be to health, unless we
have the promise of a different and better way of being.
Buddha, over two thousand years ago, talked of
attachment as the root of all suffering. When we hang
onto old emotional states such as anger, grief, anxiety,
or fear, we suffer. Buddhism suggests that freedom from
attachment to these states arises when we let go of them
and move towards an acceptance of what is. This means
the calming of the fearful and frenzied mind, so that it
may value, appreciate, and enjoy whatever life brings.
When we start to
trust that there is enjoyment to be found in the small
details of life -- a conversation with a friend, the
warm smell of the dinner cooking, the play of sunlight
on leaves, then we are letting go to live in a calm
appreciation of this moment. When we do this, we are
giving the body and mind the chance to deeply relax, and
in this space healing can take place. At this point we
are flowing with the energy of life, rather than against
it. This is the opportunity of illness -- the chance to
be mindful of the moment so that mind and body can heal.
Physical symptoms may not vanish away -- tissue damage
may have taken place and may not fully heal -- but a
process has started of letting go and relaxing, to focus
on absorbing the every day pleasures that are accessible
in the here and now.
We are more than our
symptoms -- we have the awareness to choose to take the
opportunities life presents, and appreciate and value
the gifts the senses bring. The simple pleasures of
enjoying the summer rain or sitting by a roaring fire in
the depth of winter can be lost in a busy world whose
prime concern often seems to be the cultivation of the
material rather than the spiritual. For me these
pleasures allow me to feel fully alive, even when sick
and tired.
I am by no means out
of the woods of post polio syndrome and I do not wish to
sound like Pollyanna and give the impression that
illness is a wonderful thing. Most days I am frustrated,
saddened, and scared by the symptoms I experience, but
the antidote that helps me out of the dark tunnel is
there, should I choose to access it. Firstly, I become
aware and tune into the thoughts and feelings that I am
identifying with, then I let go of them by turning my
attention to appreciate something in my environment in
this moment. This is a choice still available to me in
spite of everything, and through the choosing comes a
healing.
Post
polio syndrome has given me the time and space to try to
understand a little more about the purpose and the
meaning of my life. Let me be clear -- if I could choose
to be sick or well I would wave the magic wand for
wellness any day! I have however been dealt this
particular hand of cards, and I am grateful that it has
allowed me to understand the importance and the need to
learn to smell those roses along the way. Instead I am
able, more and more, to aspire towards an attitude of
acceptance and appreciation of my life as it is. The
gifts are there -- the comfort of a friend, listening to
music, appreciating silence, reading a good book -- they
all bring pleasure in this moment. And in that moment,
healing grows.
Recommended book:
Who Ordered This Truckload of Dung? Inspiring Stories for Welcoming Life's Difficulties
by Ajahn Brahm.
The 108 stories in this book offer
thoughtful commentary on everything from love and commitment to fear
and pain. Author Ajahn Brahm uses over 30 years of spiritual
growth as a monk to spin delightful tales that can be enjoyed in
silence or read aloud to friends and family. Suitable for children, adults, and
anyone in between.
For more info or to order this book
About The
Author
Vicki McKenna was born in 1951 and contracted polio the
following year. She practices acupuncture and uses this
therapy as a tool to enable her clients to work more
easily on the issues they bring with them. She is the
author of "A Balanced Way of Living; Practical and
Holistic Strategies for Coping with Post Polio Syndrome".
This book may be obtained by sending a check for
$30 (UK BP10) to Vicki McKenna, 42 Regent Park Square,
Glasgow, G412AG,Scotland, UK. The author can be
contacted at
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or by visiting her website http://www.share.force9.co.uk
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