No Man Is An Island

Living with CF can often be overwhelming. The disease takes its toll both emotionally and physically. To survive is to fight; however, we do not fight alone.

Behind every patient is an army of friends, family members, doctors, and nurses. This support system makes living with CF bearable. After all, we, as patients, need all the love and support we can get.

There are times, however, when we - as patients - choose to withhold certain things from our support team. CF patients do this, not out of resentment, fear, or disdain, but out of love. We understand how difficult it is to stand idly-by and watch a loved one suffer. We understand how frustrating it can be to feel totally and completely powerless. We understand how mentally antagonizing it can be to watch a son, daughter, girlfriend, boyfriend, wife, or husband literally fight for their life. We understand your anxieties and we understand your fears.

This understanding often leads to a harsh realization: we, as CF patients, are responsible for your pain.

You cry for us, you pray for us, you care for us, and you fear for us. You are, in many ways, more affected by the disease then we are.

As a CF survivor, I can say that the most frustrating part about living with CF is having to watch my family, friends, and loved ones deal with the disease. Nothing pains me more then knowing that my sickness impacts so many people on so many levels. I fully understand and appreciate their concern, their love and their fear; however, I sometimes wish that I could remove them from the situation. This is why I sometimes keep certain things to myself. It is not selfishness, it is not insensitivity and it is not a defense mechanism. It is simply love.

Nothing pains us more then hurting the ones we love. Unfortunately, surviving CF often entails doing just that; relying on other people, sharing our pain, and inflicting hurt (albeit unintentionally) on the ones we care about. We, as CF patients, deal with this complex paradox everyday; and, as a result, we sometimes hold back.

We hold back to protect you, to distance you from the inevitable. We hold back in an attempt to guard you from the harshness of the situation at hand. We hold back to shelter you from pain and anguish; from strife and sadness.

We hold back because we love you.

We hold back because we care.

No man is and island; yet we all want to make it on our own.