Setting A New Pace, Together

Having a chronic illness means life outside the house can feel incredibly precious. I used to take a lot of things for granted, but now something as simple as having the energy to take a walk with my dog Nico feels like a huge gift.

I haven’t always felt this way. For a long time I grieved my healthy body and all it was capable of. I struggled with accepting my new limitations and resisted new routines, hoping instead that I’d wake up one day cured.

Nico has been a true companion on this journey. Snuggling up with me for all my needed naps or moments of rest. Following me around the house like my shadow, making sure I never felt alone. Cheering me up on even the rainiest of days, licking at my sore joints or curling herself onto my lap making me feel better about having to be still. Over time, I began to recognise that Nico’s love for me hadn’t changed just because what I was capable of had. It helped me begin to see I had to learn to accept my illness, and love myself - just as I had before. Who I was hadn’t changed just because of what I now couldn’t do.

If I’ve got some energy spare, my greatest pleasure is taking Nico to our local park. I can let her run around unleashed so she can move at her own pace, and me at mine. We go there so frequently we know almost every inch of it, though it’s this familiarity that highlights how gloriously different every day feels. How bright the sun is, or how blue the sky, can shift the colours of trees. It can make the pond appear as still and clear as glass, or the wind can stir it up into a mottled green. If it rains there will be dogs that look like they’ve been dipped in chocolate, paws and bellies covered in mud. Nico on the other hand, carefully edges around puddles, or will paw at my legs asking me to pick her up! On dewy mornings the grassy lawns turn emerald green, and Nico’s fur will glisten with wet as she bounds across them. In the summer months, pockets of tall slithers of stems rise with beautiful wild meadow flowers, and I’ll catch a sway and Nico’s cloud of white fluff passing through them. On cold days we walk with hurried steps, looking out into the foggy horizon. On warmer days we take shade under the huge sweeping branches of a willow tree, or watch the coots and their chicks swim across the pond.

There are still moments where I wish my body was stronger, and my sadness can weigh heavily inside me. There is one particular day like this that stays in my memory. It was cold outside and winter's chill had gotten into my bones and the grey seemed to have settled in my thoughts. Nico pawed gently at my leg, and unable to resist her adoring face I reluctantly took her to the park. We strolled. Nico, ahead of me, sniffing the feet of the benches or edges of the hedgerows. I had my hands stuffed deep into my pockets and chin tucked into the high neck of my coat, eyes down following the concrete path. Nico pottered around my feet and then to my left and stopped. She looked at me, eyes asking me to take notice, then turned away and carried on walking towards a clearing in the trees towards the open field. As I watched her my eyes left the ground and met the horizon. The sky had been swept with a soft chalky pink, and the clouds had taken on a lavender hue. I felt my breath catch in my throat and my eyes water as I watched the bleed of orange from the setting sun. I stood there and took in those colours of sky and felt them filling me up. Every emotion that had turned grey inside me transformed and I remembered how wonderful living is, in all its forms. I thought how if I was still leading the busy and stressful life I had been before I got sick, I’d never have stood still long enough to see the sky as it was then. I’d never had spent so much time with Nico to have such a special bond with her. I realised in that moment that for all that I’d lost, it had also made space for something new. Something more still, more present, different - not necessarily better - but I felt lucky to have it.

As the years have passed my health has very slowly improved. I’m not sure I’ll ever be cured, but I’m grateful for the progression and I feel certain that my moments with Nico have added some healing joy into my life and helped me find a new way to be me.