It's All Trite- Until It's All Right

If only it were true the things people say to comfort one another. But we know that time does not heal all wounds at least as long as- we live to watch a clock. It's a funny thing about incurable diseases that won't kill you. They just happen to be the ones that make you wish you were dead. Lying in bed, lying to myself- it will get better . That's the lie.
It will get worse as all progressive diseases do. I humor myself by adding that life is a progressive disease anyway and eventually we die, I think that's the good news and the bad news.
Now here goes my twisted sense of humor humming, "The facts of life...the facts of life... when the world never seems to be living up to your dreams..." Oh boy that song still fits.
Lying in bed- with a hurt from head to toe because the arthritis is in my jaw and in my toes and every joint in between; the only thing that changes is which part hurts worse today. I suppose that's bad enough- but God doesn't give you anything you can't handle- truth is He gives you several things you can't handle- and just because you're ticking the time away through it- doesn't mean you're handling it.
Getting out of bed- that's not going to happen today; it just isn't. My immune system barges in with a resounding, "Nope, that's not going to happen today, Loraine because on top of the arthritis you're immune system is kaput and you've caught another flu or cold or whatever it is".
Well, I'll make the attempt to hobble to the shower and sit in it for a good long while- perhaps that will motivate me to- to I don't know- curl into the fetal position until the water starts to run cold? Today, I'm taking Excedrin and Emergen-C. Got to save the Vicodin for the big guns and it's not the big guns yet.
Yes, I'm morose and maudlin- well excuse me for living and excuse me for not dying but that's just not an option. That's another little lie we tell ourselves because it's always an option. And sometimes it seems like a pretty good one. But that's just the way I feel today- and possibly all the way up until next Wednesday.
That's when I'll get my infusion and the world will be right again for - just a little while maybe- because the truth is that infusion just doesn't work as well as it used to work. And the truth is they aren't going to increase my dose. I can do the math and I can read the writing on the wall too.
Today is methotrexate day- God I hate it. (Hate it, hate it, and hate it- 23 years of hating it). But it keeps things moving along, while I watch the clock. How can I possibly want more time on earth and not want it at the same time? I want Quality of Life. And I beg your pardon but you can stop reading this anytime you want, there's an X up in the corner for yellow bellied folks like you. Go watch American Idol and I'll just type away here. Anyway, I'm just talking to myself and to the other 3 billion people or so (God if only three billion people would read this- that's a heck of a lot of page views) that can't run or hide from what's been put on their plate.
I've got this wonderful glass half full- glass half empty attitude. It's why I see a shrink every two weeks. I start seeing the glass as half empty and it's his job (whether it's a delusion or not) to convince me my glass is half full and damn he's good at it; really good. I'm lucky. Delusions are a good thing. Delusions of Grandeur even better; I could use one of those right now.
Here's my delusion of Grandeur; I get 5 vials of infliximib every 4 weeks- instead of 4 vials every 5 weeks and I never have to take methotrexate or steroids again. Or better yet- how about a spontaneous remission? - Okay so it's never happened to me- but they say it's happened to someone. Um, I'll take that and a slice of cheesecake with a big cold glass of milk please. And while you're at it make me three inches taller- two in the waist and one in the legs by traction if it all possible.
Sometimes I have a small delusion where my brain is stuck in a jar and I don't have to worry about this body. With my luck, I'd start getting migraines.
I'm a spoiled rotten brat today and you know what? I don't care. I want my cake and I want to eat it too. I could work on gratitude, but I don't feel like it. Gratitude-Schamtitude- Yes I have tons to be grateful for but today I'm going to act like a two year old and figuratively throw myself on the floor and start wailing like one. But that's just today. It's my mulligan, it's my party, I'll cry if I want to and I want to- so there.
No being an inspiration to others today God. No looking for it in others either. I'm on a pity pot! Just let me have this. "Let me cry if I want to, cry if I want to!"
If I could I'd run to the window and open it up and scream to the top of my lungs, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!" But I don't have the strength or inclination and well, I'm not in a tall building in Brooklyn or wherever that was where anyone would hear me- And I'm pretty sure I can't get the window open in my present condition.
I'm mad as hell- but I will take it and take it and take it. Maybe all parents have this little bargain they make with God. "Put it on me but spare my children." Of course, the rain falls on all of us in a different way and the storms come and go and this is my little storm. "God help me but only if it serves your purpose." "God help me, I'm such an ingrate." "God help me now to stop feeling sorry for myself and do what you want me to do." "God help me to remember ALL that you have given me- you've given me so much that I burst with joy and my cup runs over." "My cup runs over" "My cup runs over" "My cup runs over".
Wait a minute! My cup really does run over. It's not half full or half empty - it's running over. Pain or no; my life is abundant.
I didn't think my little diatribe would end this way; the Lord works in mysterious ways, no sooner are you all set to have your pity party with a good long cry and make it last all day- but the page turns on you.
In truth my inner thoughts seemed to instantly turn to the suffering of other's- to the joy that I've been given without deserving, to the very fortunate fact that I can breathe and enjoy friendships. I have maybe-not all that I want- but all that I need. I have unspeakable things for which to be grateful-unspeakable lest I jinx it. I'm loved and I love and this above all things- above all things.
So my time here on earth will not always be spent with grace and dignity- And I'll argue with my Maker- this is what I want today- just to feel sorry for myself- or worse yet- God are you even there? Can you hear me? How can the tide of my heart shift in these few words from sorrow to joy?Thank you God! A shrink is a good thing to have; he can make your cup seem half full. But only God can make your cup runneth over and if that's a delusion of grandeur, I'll keep it!