Faith

There was a documentary that aired on SBS Saturday about the Shroud of Turin, to coincide with Easter.  A Professor of Religion and Religious Artefacts was talking about the significance of icons and religious artefacts in centuries past.  That people couldn’t look to medicine, or armies, or politicians in times of grave illness, instead they turned to faith.

It seems archaic, the idea of relying on faith alone to get better.  But when I think about today, and about Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME) and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), although medicine has come so far, we, like them have no concrete answers and faith in that context doesn’t seem such a foreign concept.

It is the ten year anniversary this weekend of my onset of ME.  And I have discovered this week, that in that decade not much has changed in the attitude of medical professionals towards our illness. 

What underscores our ability to survive and cope with this illness against all that condescension and those dismissive attitudes is faith.  Like all those years ago, we don’t have any tangible solution to hold onto.  They had to put their faith in religion, in icons.  Ours has to be in ourselves.  The only way we get through this is to continue to believe in our instincts and our understanding of our bodies.

With no tests or treatments proven to consistently help all people with ME and CFS, with no answers to the infinite questions, the only other option is to trust ourselves.  To have faith in our own judgement, believe in our instincts. 

My faith has been undermined this week, my trust in my judgement tested, but eventually it will come back.