I wish I could talk more honestly about what’s going on, because I so badly need an outlet, but I can’t for various reasons. That kind of writing will have to remain in my private journal. And yet I know that there are many of you who have learned to care about me deeply, as I care for you, and I’m sure you want me to at least be honest when I am dealing with pain.
Life is really, really hard right now. Honestly, I’m at the point where I’m starting to fear hope, because each time it pokes its head through the clouds, lightning strikes even harder than it did the last time, and I’m left reeling on the ground. The day before yesterday will go down in my personal history as one of the five darkest days of my life.
Let me just say this:
– Hospitals make me crazy.
– Trying to be strong for my kids when my world is falling apart requires a dose of courage that can only come from a source bigger than me.
– The health care system is profoundly broken and there are a lot of people in it who have become cynical and defensive. There are many victims in a broken system, not least of which are the patients and their families.
– There are too many incompetent people in jobs they shouldn’t have – maybe because competent people don’t want to work in broken systems.
– I have learned to advocate in situations where I never dreamed I’d have to.
– I can’t imagine life without friends and family. They lend me strength when all of mine is gone.
– There must be a lot of prayers and good wishes propping me up, because I have managed to be stronger than I believe I am.
– Shared pain (like when you wrap your arms around a sibling whose beloved is experiencing greater pain than anyone should have to bear – in the very same hospital, no less) is agonizing but bittersweet.
I know, deep down, that this too shall pass and we will emerge stronger than we were before. We are alive and we will survive. We have a history that reminds us of that. But it’s not easy hanging onto that, when the lightening bolt has just hit and you’re afraid to get up for fear of it coming again.
Your prayers are welcome. For those who wish to email me, please feel free. Kind words are always welcome. (And in case you’re worried that we don’t have a strong support system close to us, you can put your mind at ease. We do. Thank you to those who are part of it.)