When you live with PC, you don’t just manage physical pain. You manage fear.
Fear that your colleagues will see you as less capable and you’ll be rejected. Fear your boss will treat you differently. Fear you could lose your job if people saw your PC and made false assumptions, like you’re infectious.
So, you hide everything and push through. You suffer and limp on in silence. You hide all your skin and the pain. You fear the rejections, so you don’t let ANYONE know what’s wrong or how much pain you’re in.
I’ve done all that and had it happen to me. Many years ago I was working on the ramp unloading and loading airplanes while wearing steel toed boots. My fellow colleagues had a nickname for me. I had heard it, but never thought it was me. “The 40-year-old”. Then one day I saw it in writing next to my name. “The 20-year-old in the 40-year-old body”. Yes, I was 20, but walked slow and funny. Every day I would be last at the time clock because people would race out of work while I limped to my car on my blisters. I was last because I was fearful someone would see me with tears in my eyes as I took the smallest painful steps possible, and then falling into my car.
I had many supervisors ask me if I was ok to work or if I had hurt myself. A simple answer was “I’m good, just some soreness from my calluses” because people don’t think calluses hurt.
I got called into the manager’s office one day because a coworker had reported me “touching things” in the break room with my infected fingernails. This was before I knew what PC was, so I couldn’t defend myself. I can still remember the Fear after hearing what was reported and told to go to the Manager’s office. However, my dad had gotten me the job, and the Manager knew him. My father was spontaneous, and I got my PC from him. So the supervisor was just checking the box that he had talked to me. It wasn’t a comforting conversation, and it didn’t make it any better. It was just another day. So, what would tomorrow bring me.
No one should ever have to live like that! John Wayne said, “ Life is tough, and it’s even tougher when you’re stupid”. My coworkers and I were all ignorant of PC, and that lead to fear for all of us. Mostly my fear everyday but theirs too if they thought I was infectious. I like to say PC Project has shinned a light on the darkness. It has given me the knowledge, and then courage, to empower me to tell my story. To talk about my pain in all aspects. I still have pain, but it comes to PC, fear no longer exists. I like to say now I’m a PC Warrior.
This month, we’re speaking up—for every one of us who’s ever had to hide their pain just to survive. For everyone who’s kept their suffering a secret just to keep a paycheck.
Make a gift today to help create a world where people with PC don’t have to fear rejection.
Let’s build a future where strength doesn’t mean silence.
With love,
Jim
#EndThePain
