How Are You?

“How are you?”  Boy! That is a loaded question.  It is funny how I react differently now to the typical greetings that everyone uses.   I am even so programmed in giving the typical pat response “fine,” that I responded that way to my doctor during one of my previous appointments.    He hurried into the room where I had been waiting for him.  “Hi, how are you today?”   “Good,” I answered without skipping a beat.  He stopped and looked at me with the questionable look of doubt.  “Really, you are feeling good?”  Oops, I guess I better be a little more honest with my doctor.  “No, not really,” I chuckled, “I am just used to saying that.  I am actually in a lot of pain, and not doing well at all.”   That is more like it, not smart to answer your doctor like you do everyone else.

I have been having a hard time with this question.  It really is a loaded one.  I could say “fine” or “good”, but then everyone thinks that I must be completely healed.   I could go into how I am really feeling, but I don’t think they want to hear about all of my aches and pains that I am probably hiding behind my smile.   "Some days are better than others;" I have decided this should be my general response.  It lets them know that today I am doing well enough to be out and about, but I don’t necessarily feel that way every day.  Heck sometimes I don’t feel that way every hour. 

`Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation.  Alice replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'

“Well, you look good; you don’t look like you are sick.” I know everyone has good intentions when these common phrases are used.  I have used them too, hundreds of times.  It is odd how I read more into these good-natured remarks now.  They also lead to a cascade of different emotions.  Do they not believe me?  Do they think I am making up that I am in constant pain?  I have gotten better with these statements.    They used to really bother me when my body was first injured by Levaquin.  I have finally realized it is not the person sending these remarks that is causing these emotions.  It is me!  I am causing them.   I have this deep need to make sure everyone knows or understands what has happened to me, to feel believed.   I can’t let go of the doubt I feel others might have.  It is my control-freak inner self.

You know what?  Not everyone is going to understand or “get it”.  I have finally understood this revelation.  This eye-opener of what is causing these emotions has now allowed me to accept them for what they are.  They are well wishes sent by people who care.  They may not have the need to know every detail, but they are concerned enough to ask.  Now I realize it is nice to hear these compliments.  It is good to know I don’t look as bad as I feel.   So bring on your “How-are-you” and your “You-don’t-look-sick” remarks.  I now know how to accept them, and will proudly, and hope gracefully, embrace them.