When Chronic Illness Turns Simple Tasks into Small Wins

A recent drive to church made me ecstatic. People with chronic illness can probably guess why.

My wife and I attend the quiet 8:00 mass at an Episcopal parish in the US. It no longer takes center stage in my spiritual practice, but the pageantry still speaks to me: the gorgeous prose of the Book of Common Prayer, the kneeling and bowing, Communion and the ineffable oneness with God that it represents. Our enthusiasm for all this inspires us to go to church as often as possible.

Possible being the key word.

We’ve never found it easy to make the 8:00. Especially in winter, it requires us to wake up in the dark, sprint through our morning paces, and get out the door, all while semi-conscious. Barely doable.

Long COVID has made barely doable next to impossible. Two-thirds of the time I wake up too brain-fogged, or too late, to even consider church. The other third it’s a toss-up. By my last count, I’ve made it to church three times this year.

On a recent Sunday, however, I actually felt halfway human after leaving my bed. Somehow I showered, got into my good clothes, and slipped behind the wheel with time to spare. And as I drove down the big hill near our house, this tsunami of happiness washed through me. OH, MY, GOD, I thought. I’M IN THE BLOOMIN’ CAR  AND DRESSED AND ACTUALLY GOING TO CHURCH.

Forget about getting there, or whether I’d be awake enough once there to pay attention. In that joyous moment, just driving toward church was a win.

This is chronic illness for me. Most activities are a struggle on most days. Mood-wise, I aim for fatigued yet functional as my ideal. Some things I used to love are now beyond my reach: skiing, hobbies, travel (so far; I’m working on this one).

​But I’ve learned to take my victories where I can. To find joy, celebrate tiny occurrences that most people—including Past Me—would not think twice about. It requires a level of intentionality that exhausts me all by itself. But, as a result, I pay closer attention and live more deeply than I ever have.

What a strange mixed bag this life is. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.