There’s nothing like a late-night visit to the ER to make you realize you’ve accumulated quite an extensive inventory of ailments, conditions, and diseases.

This time, I went because of a surprise anaphylactic reaction to Penicillin VK. It had been prescribed to knock out whatever was causing my constant sore throat, cough, and laryngitis. I’d never been told I was allergic to penicillin — though in fairness, I don’t recall ever taking it before. Over the years I’ve had ear infections and strep throat, but they were usually treated with a different antibiotic.

The reaction came fast: swollen and red feet, flushing cheeks, itchy eyes, lips that itched and started to swell. Scary enough that I called the after hours advice nurse and she said I needed to get to the ER right away.

Here’s how it goes once you get there: you check in, then you’re called to see an intake nurse before you are taken to a room. They take your vitals, ask for your medications, and then — the part that always makes me pause — they read out the list of conditions on your chart.

It’s quite something to hear them rattled off like a grocery list. Ready for mine? Here we go, in order of dominance:

• Parkinson’s
  
• Anxiety (as part of having Parkinson’s)
  
• Degenerative Disc Disease
  
• Piriformis Syndrome
  
• Dysphagia and “Slow Esophagus”
  
• Sjogren’s Syndrome
  
• Fibromyalgia
  
• Hypotension
  
• Osteoporosis
  
• Reactive Airway Disease
  
• Essential Tremor
  
• Vitamin B12 deficiency
  
• Vitamin D deficiency
  
• Allergies to certain foods
  
• Allergies to certain drugs (now including Penicillin!)
  

Quite the collection, isn’t it? Enough to make me sound like a walking medical encyclopedia.

But here’s the thing: after the nurse is done checking boxes, I’m left with a deeper question — so what? What does this list really say about me?

It reminds me that health is part of my story, but not the whole story. I am not my health conditions.

I am a mother, a writer, a dreamer, a woman with a lifelong friendship that has carried me across decades. I am someone who laughs, who loves, who keeps learning, even when my body is loud with symptoms.

Yes, Parkinson’s and its companions follow me everywhere, but they don’t get to take the pen out of my hand. They don’t get to define me.

When the chart is read out loud, I hear a list of limitations. But when I listen with my heart, I hear a list of possibilities. And that’s the list I choose to live by.