When Health Can Hide

Before:

I got in,

But this wasn’t the plan.

Doesn’t matter, I was a fan.

Face lit up fast, no more wanting to be that absent girl.

But did I really want to go?

Could I leave the only hospitals I know?

Frightened by freedom.

I could be free from the same sterile offices and scheduled appointments and scans.

My own future at hand.

Maybe the pain would flee. Or I could flee from it.

If I moved far away, nobody would know what I had been through.

Nobody could tell me to stop trying to be someone new.

First weeks:

Smile and laugh, hide the liquid IV.

When offered to go out, simply agree.

Oh, and keep my medications in the closet.

And so classes began.

I remained a committed student, focusing only on what could be controlled.

You’re fine I’d be told.

If only they knew what I had been through.

I wrote part of my Common App with a hospital view.

And here I am now.

My symptoms are just an inconvenience...

Or the part of me that's laughed about.

It’s okay, sometimes I laugh too.

Except, when I laugh there's a different intention.

It’s joy that I earned this opportunity,

An opportunity for redemption.

Here now:

But, what am I here to redeem?

Is there something I need to prove?

I still don’t know.

I got in, and I want to stay.

To find people who understand.

To advocate on behalf of those like me.

Here I am now, sleep deprived,

Keeping my symptoms well-disguised.

But, I’m no more that absent girl.

Met with my professors.

Well what did they say?

Sounds good, just don’t miss your final essay.

Sure, I’ll try.

As if I can control the heart racing.

As if I can decide what I find myself facing.

Am I truly living...

Or just surviving the day?

It’s clear my symptoms are here to stay.

I wish:

I speak up again, for my needs are unmet.

If only I could simply forget.

Day and night I question.

A campus without barriers or doubts.

One that is completely accessible.

A dream.

The abilities I possessed before have been lost,

My hope for the future has only been tossed.

Here I am, living several states away from home.

I want to be seen.

Not only me, but you too.

If only we could just share what we’ve been through.

Hail:

A chronic illness, disability, and neurodivergent community.

Reflecting on systematic changes that need to be made.

Around campus our advocacy efforts are displayed.

No longer that absent girl,

But a worthy student who is building off her struggles, determination, and hope.

Looking for others to help me cope.

My education here is just at the start,

And I will make a difference,

One that feels right in my heart.

About the Author

Ashlyn Perry (she/her)

I am a first-year undergraduate student from the suburbs of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I am studying Movement Science in the School of Kinesiology where I am also a Research Assistant. I have a strong interest in disability studies and advocacy, along with public health and public policy. Outside of academics I enjoy volunteering as a peer-buddy with the Best Buddies Program, serving in the Ann Arbor community with the Michigan Community Scholars Program (MCSP), and contributing to several other organizations here on the U-M campus.

Image description: Ashlyn is a young white woman with long brown hair. She is wearing a black sweater and a small gold necklace. She is standing in front of glass windows and smiling at the camera.