Gathering new evidence helps me tackle my fears with sickle cell
New, positive experiences offer proof that things can go well
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One of my most important takeaways from therapy is the idea of building a body of evidence — proof that things can go well, and that my fears don’t always predict my reality. This applies to many areas of my life, but most recently to my relationship with cold weather, something I’ve struggled with since childhood.
When I was 8 years old, I experienced a severe sickle cell crisis after playing in the snow for the first time in the U.S. (I live in the U.K.) What began as one of the happiest moments of my childhood, making snow angels and shoveling snow, quickly turned traumatic. I was admitted to the hospital, underwent a minor operation, and endured intense pain that left me unable to eat solid food for weeks.
That experience left a lasting imprint. Even as I healed physically, a quiet fear remained. Cold climates, skiing, snowboarding — these things always felt distant, risky, and not meant for me. While I was in the States for a couple of weeks last month, a snowstorm caused me to unexpectedly face that fear again.
Overcoming past trauma
When I needed to help shovel the snow, I thought about the last time I had done so, and how it ended with a crisis. But another part of me, the adult shaped by therapy, growth, and years of caring for my body, recognized this as an opportunity. I had been traveling frequently, exercising consistently, and managing my health well. I was in one of the strongest physical positions I’ve ever been in while living with sickle cell. This was a chance to build new evidence.
So I prepared. I wore multiple layers: two pairs of socks and three layers on my lower and upper body. I listened to my body. I took breaks. I checked in with myself every 10 minutes, paying attention to how I felt physically. To my surprise, I felt strong. It felt no different from a moderate workout. I wasn’t in pain. I wasn’t in distress. I was capable.
When I finished and went inside, I felt exhausted, but it was the familiar exhaustion of effort, not the warning signs of a crisis. I was overcome with emotion. Not because I had shoveled snow, but because of what it represented. The child who once associated snow with trauma had grown into an adult who could stand in it, work in it, and walk away safely.
For many people, this moment might seem small. But for me, it was profound. It was proof that my body is not as fragile as fear once made it seem. It was evidence that with preparation, awareness, and self-trust, I can safely do things I once believed were beyond my limits.
It also gave me hope for the future. Hope that one day, when I have children who want to play in the snow, I can be there with them, not held back by fear, but grounded in confidence and preparation.
This experience reminded me that healing is not just physical; it’s also psychological. Sometimes, fear lingers long after the body has recovered. But by building new experiences, by gathering new evidence, we can reclaim parts of ourselves we thought were lost.
Shoveling that snow wasn’t just about clearing a driveway. It was about reclaiming confidence. It was about rejecting the quiet limitations fear had placed on my life. And most importantly, it was proof to myself that I can.
Note: Sickle Cell Disease News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Sickle Cell Disease News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues about sickle cell disease.



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