The value of health
Hannah Harte
Patreon: HRMNZ @hannah_harte_
Thomas Fuller, an English historian from the 16th century, once said: “health is not valued until sickness comes”, a sentiment as insightful then as it is now. Many of us take our salubrity for granted, not realising how precious the gift of physical and mental well-being can be. Some will enjoy a robust constitution throughout their time on earth and never know anything different, while others are born with issues that infiltrate the reality of their daily lives.
My physical and mental state sputtered along until I was hospitalised for emergency surgery due to Crohn’s disease at 16. By then, I was simply grateful and relieved to finally have a name for the awful affliction that had plagued me for as long as I could remember. At that age, even when a specialist solemnly informs you that you have a chronic, incurable disease, you assume that medicine will find a cure eventually and you will, someday, feel better. Unfortunately, science is still nowhere near to solving the mystery of Crohn’s, and though medication options have improved, they come with their own host of complications. Now, as I approach my mid 40’s with the usual aches and pains of ageing manifesting, I am faced with the fact that I will never know what it is like to have a prolonged period of good health in my lifetime. That ship has passed me by, sailing along without a backwards glance.
My main goal in life has long been to avoid further surgery, with raising my children as the highest priority. Existence becomes a complex juggling act of weighing up a million small choices; I work when I can, as much as I can, and pull back when I have to. Pain, fatigue, and Crohn’s disease flare up when I try to take on too much, warning me I am flying too close to the sun. My malfunctioning body forces me to slow down, stop trying to do or be too much, and find my value outside of how much money I can earn. At times I mourn for the dreams, goals and hopes I had for myself, but the challenge of navigating life under the shadow of disability has also resulted in resilience, creativity, open-mindedness, and empathy for the suffering of others.
A good day, or even a good hour of feeling healthy, is a gift beyond words. I recognise and savour those moments. I implore everyone to treat their health with the respect it deserves, to know when to take it easy, to stop pushing past your breaking point, and to truly cherish what can be a fragile, temporary state of being. After all, in the words of Joni Mitchell: “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.”