'M.E. myself and I' by Anna Redshaw

Today I feel so at peace. I saw friends yesterday but was sensible using my wheelchair and I didn’t stay out for more than a couple of hours. I love those girls. Sometimes in life you come across people who you can be completely at ease with; that’s me and my group of friends, both from school and university. Illness has taught me to just be myself. I’m too poorly to try to be anything else. To have people in your life who not only accept you for who you are but love you for it too is a true blessing. They bundled the wheelchair into the car like it’s the most ordinary thing for us to be doing. (I’ve known this group of friends for about ten years. It’s only in the last few that I’ve been ill.) It doesn’t seem to phase them. They check I’m okay to walk up and down any steps but in a way that doesn’t cause a fuss or make a big deal out of it. They’re perfect really. They’ve always got my back. I didn’t have my camera with me yesterday, which is so unlike me, but one of the girls took a few lovely photos that I’ll now cherish. I’ll look at them with the biggest smile on my face and remember how wonderful yesterday was. Under two hours out of the house might seem like nothing, but to me it is my whole week, or fortnight, or month. My friends gave up their afternoons off to take me out. Me. The girl who often feels she has nothing to offer anymore. But they make me feel important and worthwhile and normal, as if nothing has changed. I don’t have to hide my illness from them. (A few of them have seen me during a sudden crash and they all got to see me as a blubbering mess one birthday!) To them I’m still just Anna Jones, even when I don’t know who that Anna Jones is anymore.