Dawna and John Beausoleil are a married couple who both have CFIDS. Dawna writes about how the illness has affected their lives over the past decade.

It was the worst bout of flu I ever suffered. For some reason, I never regained my strength. Waking in the morning was like coming out of anesthetic — and walking uphill, more like surmounting Mt. Everest.

I returned to teaching that fall. A specialist said I’d developed massive allergies that might be responsible for the fatigue. I taught, ate and slept, day after day. Quitting my job was not an option. Fear became a real part of my life, but rational ones got all mixed up with irrational ones.

Several years passed with some improvement. I met and married my husband, John, and we moved to Ontario, Canada. It was there that my body just broke — mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. Life was a series of nightmares, hospitalizations, panic attacks and depression, all while trying to act the part of a pastor’s wife. I was obsessed with the belief that I must work. But even occasional substitute teaching became too much, so I finally started delivering flyers a few times a week. John begged me to quit because he ended up doing the job for me. He was so kind and patient and took over most of the household chores. But more importantly, he assured me that he loved me just the way I was.

After seven years, with the help of endless doctors and therapists, I felt better emotionally. A diagnosis of CFIDS during this time put a handle on my fatigue and now I was ready to tackle life again.

But fate was about to twist a nasty knot into our lives. John had experienced recurring bouts of flu for several years. Each time it took longer for him to recover, until in 1997 he never picked up again. He returned to work, doing what he could, but that was less and less as months went by. Finally he was diagnosed with CFIDS as well. By February he had to quit work and start the long fight for disability.

Five years have passed. We have enough pension to live comfortably. We have built a small cottage designed to fit our unique needs.

It is easy to keep clean and things are arranged for minimal exertion.

But the days can still be agony. When we both hit a low, we lie in bed and wonder what will become of us. Will we just die here unable to take care of ourselves?

Mostly, though, we practice being upbeat. Playing Scrabble is good for mental stimulation. Jigsaw puzzles are fun. In the summer I do flower gardening and John has a vegetable garden. We were given a big white Malamute dog that takes us on walks and shares lots of love. Television is good for learning or just for a laugh and reading is a favorite for both of us. I sing occasionally at a local church. We work at being happy and are usually successful.

Living with CFIDS is a process of acceptance and adjustment. It is a disease of lost dreams and desires. And it can be a long grieving process. It means enjoying past photo albums when I’d rather travel. Or giving away beautiful fabric I bought 10 years ago, or skis I never use, or a guitar I never learned to play. It is braving each loss as my life scales down long before its time. It means using powdered garlic and onion instead of fresh. It means taking things in small doses and learning to cherish each moment. But more importantly, it means doing something for someone else each day. If I can’t reach out physically, I can send a card, and if not that, I can offer a prayer from my bed. Reaching out is the greatest lesson I’ve learned. It blesses both the giver and the receiver.