the worst part about being chronically ill is not the pain. it's not the endless prodding doctors. it's not the questions or the stares from others.
the worst part is when you begin to hope.
a week goes by, perhaps even two. the pain is lessening. hope begins to build. your mind starts playing tricks on you. maybe i made all this up. maybe it is going away for good this time.
and then it happens. the hope that you have so slowly and carefully fostered is suddenly smashed to smitherings.
three days in bed. cringing from the touch of another who meant to be gentle. crying as you wait to be picked up on the side of the road because your legs just couldn't make it home. tossing and turning through the night, unable to get the sleep your body craves. thinking that the pain could be better mastered if you were inflicting it upon yourself. isolation seems the best option as no one understands. thoughts are clouded with the fog of pain.
it feels like you fell smack on your face. and maybe you literally did.
so what can you do about it?
nothing. just pick yourself up and keep plodding along.
and dream of that redeemed body that's promised when this world is over.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
2 comments:
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I have mild chronic fatigue myself, and even this means aching leg muscles when I walk for even brief periods of time, and feeling tired and sleepy in the middle of the day; I usually succumb to this and sleep for 2 hours or so, meaning I am not doing the thing I like to do best; write!
ReplyDeleteAs Christians, we must pray that God is with us in the most trying of times, and keep praying for relief.
Thank you so much for your words and encouragement - few understand chronic pain unless they also have experienced it.
ReplyDeleteI pray for you this morning even as I pray for myself.