I’M in line at the supermarket holding three items close to my chest. But I might as well be juggling my Kleenex box, toothpaste tube and an orange. Because — as you’d surely notice if you were behind me in line — I‘m bent forward at a sharp angle, which makes holding things difficult. I know you don’t want to stare, but you do. Maybe you think you’re being considerate when you say, apropos of nothing, “You look like you’re in pain.” Well, thanks, I am — but I’ll resist replying the way I want (“You look like you’re having a bad hair day”). I’m sorry. I know you mean well. Anyway it’s my turn at the register which means I’m closer to being at home where I can lie down and wait for the spasms to subside.

Besides, if I told you what my issue was, you would probably shrug and reply that you’d never heard of it. There aren’t any public service announcements about it or telethons. No Angelina Jolies to bravely inform the world. Just people like me, in supermarket checkout lines.

And this, I realize, is at the core of a problem that extends beyond me and my condition and that affects the way all of us respond to illnesses, some of which are the subject of public attention — and resources — and some of which are not.

I have dystonia, a neurological disorder. Some years ago, for reasons no one knows, the muscles in my back and neck began to spasm involuntarily; the spasms multiply quickly, fatigue the muscles and force the body into repetitive movements and awkward postures like mine. There is no cure, only treatment options like deep brain stimulation, which requires a surgery I underwent last year as a last resort.