Friday at the GI doctor and this weekend musings
Friday was a strange day. It was an important day.
My mom was terrified about the excess toxins in my body, as was I. She was very upset that doctors have not taken my frequent complains of stomach pains serious. She did not know how bad off my body was and she like me, thought the doctors had checked my stomach with the sonogram and MRI, but they had not. My mom, on mother protection strength and love, got me to the GI doctor on Friday.
She spoke to several nurses/receptionist, several who were not at all taking my condition seriously. She finally spoke to someone who set up an appointment for me that day. She wanted me to be seen that day and I was so glad she did because I was very scared too about how my body is so unwell and my stomach possibly impacted.
My mom drove me to the office. We talked tenderly, there is a lot of pain in me, in my parents, and even brothers, because of my trial. It is too much to explain the pain. Words would never do it justice.
My mom was with me the whole time, speaking with the GI doctor, when I got blood drawn, when I purchased the items the doctor recommended in preparing for a stomach procedure I will have on wed.
I feel sick when I think of all the pain I have experienced physically and emotionally and the pain I’ve caused my parents. Many times I have been upset, furious at them, feeling they did not understand my pain. That was the anger of a torture victim and a person misunderstood, that anger I know will still come and I will have to sooth myself because I am still being tortured by pain. I still have to remind myself I deserve to exist, I frequently want to kill myself.
My parents love me in their souls, I had always known this and always will know it. No one can or ever could take that knowledge from me. I know it in my soul. But I have been hurt because they did not understand at times when I was drowning in pain and I have hurt them. There is a rich amount of pain there. Even so, we ache for each other. It is obvious to me.
Mom said she felt God was carrying us on Friday. I cannot deny it.
I was able to see the GI doctor and we had two very warm welcomes by strangers. One a hand shake and well wisher and another, a woman who worked at a desk. She asked me about my hair, which is natural and rather wild because of it’s dryness. But she felt it was thick and wondered how it would look done.
I told her my hair was withered like every other part of me. She said that it was okay, that the devil was busy and went onto say that it would be okay because the suffering would not last forever. She even started singing a hymn to me and my mom for a few moments. She hugged me twice and my mom twice.
Both me and my mom’s damaged spirits were touched that day.
My mom said she felt everything that happened that day was purposeful. I didn’t fully sense it because I am often in a dissociated state, not fully present because of stress or pain, but she brought it to my attention and indeed, I saw it too.
It was a very strange day. There was something very different about it.
There was a older woman at the desk when we checked in near me. I could overhear her on the phone explaining to a doctor or nurse that she was very concerned about some physical symptoms and her small frail body was shaking intensely. My mom later mentioned to me that she probably had Parkinson’s disease. Both me and my mom felt a kindship with the woman, understanding the pain of trying to be well, of searching for answers.
Saturday and today I was somewhat out of it physically and emotionally. My breathing has not been the richest. I don’t feel like I’m being smothered anymore, but not much better, a light smothering. I am afraid I am going to die, still. I am afraid I have not faught hard enough for my health early enough. I am afraid. At moments I cant bare to think of all that I’ve been through. It makes me want to destroy myself, because I already feel ruined. I am trying to hold onto my life mainly for my parents and brothers, and to tell my story on the other side of it.
I know I have to believe that there is purpose behind all my pain, that God is in control, that Friday was a sign indeed that God is going to bring me through this, or I will end up breaking in half or taking my own life.
I chose to believe there is a purpose.
Friday felt like me and my mom walked through something, that we are on the other side of something, that something is coming.
I am ready.