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Happy Sunday 👋🏾,

I don’t want to be the sick guy.

You know the one – that friend who always seems unwell. They walk into the room, and before you even say hi, they list their latest ailments, from serious issues to the niggle in their neck because they slept in an awkward position last night or the backache caused by drinking a can of coke too quickly! (Not making it up!) Don’t get me wrong- this is a judgement-free zone- I just don’t want to be “that sick guy”.

Since being diagnosed with epilepsy and chronic pain, I’ve been determined not to let those conditions define who I am. I don’t want to be seen as the “sick guy” – someone who needs to be wrapped in cotton wool or gets “that look” from people. You know the one: “Ahhh, poor you.” That’s probably why I push myself so hard at the gym, work, or just keeping up with life. But the truth is, no matter how much we fight it, our bodies have a way of making us stop and pay attention when something’s not right – it doesn’t matter who you are.

A few weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with this sharp pain in my stomach that moved to my right side. The usual suspect didn’t cause it – no knee pain or epilepsy flare-up – and that left me baffled. Even more baffling? Sheriden didn’t even hear me crying out in pain!

After a chat with 111, they suspected appendicitis, so off I went to A&E. I spent hours in the waiting room, only for the scans to show my appendix was absolutely fine. So, they sent me home with painkillers and instructions to manage it. Days later, the pain? It's still very much there.

After that first hospital visit, I told myself, “Well, they said I’m okay, so I must be fine.” I convinced myself it was no big deal, kept going to meetings, and pushed through the pain, thinking: It’s nothing, just keep going. But it wasn’t nothing.

Over the next two and a half weeks, the pain persisted, and I found myself back at A&E multiple times. Each visit lasted between 8 -10 hours – hours spent sitting, waiting, being prodded, scanned, and eventually sent home again with no clear answers. I’ve never spent so much time in hospital without actually being admitted. By the fourth visit, I wondered if it was all in my head.

On Wednesday, I finally got a diagnosis: an infection in one of my intestines. They’re still investigating which one, and there’s more to uncover, but honestly? Just hearing something was a relief. After weeks of second-guessing myself and being brushed off, knowing I wasn’t making it up felt validating.

Here’s the truth: just because I already have epilepsy and chronic pain doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to have any other health issues or the occasional sickness. Life doesn’t work like that. You don’t just get one illness and call it a day. I will still have to deal with the general life stuff – infections, colds, or whatever it is – and sometimes they’ll pile on each other. That’s okay. It doesn’t make me weaker, less capable, or the sick guy.

And here’s one thing I want to remember: they don’t hand out medals for bravery regarding your health, and no one will write on my tombstone, “Lawrence pushed through the pain like a champ.” So, if your body’s telling you something isn’t right, listen to it. Take care of yourself. I know I’ll be listening to my body more.

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