Or, that time I mentioned my wheezy-hamster-lungs in an interview.
Unsurprisingly having a life-shortening illness can make you feel a tad vulnerable at times. It can also make you feel like a superhero when you defy the odds.
But there’s one context that has always made me feel more vulnerable about having Cystic Fibrosis than any other.
A job interview.
The normal tension, adrenaline and uncertainty of an interview is shadowed by one little voice in the back of my head asking ‘but when do I tell them?’
An admission that you’re essentially a walking pharmacy, reliant on multiple medications to survive, need a dedicated diary to keep up with doctor appointments and will likely have to be hospitalised for a week or two a year, is not traditionally viewed as a strength in the professional world.
And yet, revealing my CF made me feel stronger and more assertive than perhaps any other single statement I made during a recent interview.
And I got the job.
In fact, I have now discussed CF in three job interviews this year. Two for freelance positions and one permanent. I was offered all three roles.
I don’t share this as an example for other people with chronic illness to emulate. I am in no position to recommend anything, and I am well aware of the serious emotional and financial risks of disclosing an illness in a professional context.
All I can share is my own experience. Five years ago I would never have been so open about my CF. I even let CF be the reason I didn’t apply for several opportunities; much as I regret it now, I accept it’s what I was comfortable with back then.
I’ve always been frank with people who know me and prefer to joke about life with CF than to not talk about it at all. It is an attitude that I have tried to translate to my professional life too.
So over the course of this year I have – unconsciously at first – dared myself to be more open than I ever have about this strange life I live as a medical grade drugs mule. CF has a curious ability to scare you and make you brave simultaneously, and I relish the lessons it’s taught me.
A few months ago I turned up on the first day of a freelance job with a 10 inch plastic cannula tube sticking out my arm, as I finished the last couple of days of an intravenous antibiotics course.
I was recovered and able to do the work, but in previous years I would have fretted and worried about this unchangeable fact of life. No doubt making myself feel worse in the process and less focused on the job at hand.
Instead by being honest, matter-of-fact and hopefully professional about it, it became a non-event. For me at least, I never did check whether my line manager was squeamish.
That wellworn adage, misattributed to Marilyn Monroe on many an insta meme, ‘if you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best’ starts to ring true. But only partially, as I don’t think people with a chronic condition should believe it represents the worst of them, far from it!
Whether the issue at hand is an illness or any other type of imperfect truth; it is a truth. And as I have learnt, it’s one that can be an asset, a vulnerability and a triviality all at the same time.
So take me as I am: war-chest of antibiotics included.