When is ILLNESS not the King?

Dear Illness,

Do you remember that for how many years did we archive our promise?

The promise that you will never invade my body and experiment with the strength of its immune system. The promise is that I will labour with the physicians and follow the footsteps of their advice to keep myself free from your visits.  

But there wasn’t any time in records that I have been free of your dust even if I was breathing inside the bottle of a strict medical directive. In many of my worst moments, I can recall myself choking with the smoke of your nasty interference. Since then, I started to hate my life because you happened to be one organ of it. 

Even at the time of writing this note, I am bearing the brunt of four different pains. Had my body been a guitar, it would probably have produced the world’s lamentable sound by using the four strings of these worst pains.

So, my dear Illness, what more do you want from me?

The fact that you annex my body recurrently makes me believe that you have seen me as a promising human bank to invest the hard currency of any illness. There wasn’t any year that you missed to visit the bank of my health and deposit your recurrent amount of illness.  

Waiting to hear seemingly the new illness this time again

After you have conquered the main powerhouse of my stomach using Helicobacter pylori some years ago, I stopped taking proteins and carbonated drinks because doctors reminded me that they were your best enemies. Not to mention alcoholic beverages, even drinking a cup of tea has been a forgotten story thereafter. They said there is a legendary history that you get so infuriated when a person knowingly takes these substances. I heard of the worst territorial violence you initiate due to the intrusion of such materials.

At the same time, those clinicians reminded me not to forget to take the right amount of a balanced diet to escape from the gravity of your attack again. I did it for years now yet, you are never hesitant to raid on me.  

I don’t remember I learned the history of any king, powerful and dominant though, to have demanded the whole lists of Dos and Don’ts like you. At times, when you just insult my health repeatedly, I feel like you are coming to say: When is ILLNESS not the King? 

“Illness is the doctor to whom we pay most heed; to kindness, to knowledge, we make promise only; pain we obey” Marcel Proust