What am I suppose to tell you? What am I suppose to say?
How do I explain that I spent four days in hospital, to end up with this.
How do I equate that four blood test, five ECG’S, three cannulas, an x-ray, an endoscopy, and echogram add up to a lack of results.
While eternally, and overly grateful for the health system, how do I mention I am still left with nothing to tell you?
Four days, bruised hands, and no longer high in spirits.
I should be grateful. I should be so very pleased because; no news is good news, right? That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?
I should be over the moon because my heart is okay, structurally, and is that not reason enough to celebrate?
Am I being selfish for wishing that they would have found an explanation?
There is nothing to show as to why my stomach is not processing, so that’s helpful, right?
I know my body can function;
So why isn’t it?
I am left with negative results, and more questions then when I began. How is that even possible?
I guess it all comes back to Dysautnomia; the fact that my body tries to cooperate but physically can’t.
I don’t have much more to tell you, despite the fact that my body does so many things that I can’t quite explain to you, because I can’t quite understand them myself.
So this is me, giving myself permission to not quite get it, permission to be mad, and frustrated as hell. Permission to be completely and honest with you because I can’t continue writing these posts without you knowing everything.
But, with every inch of my aching body I know that there is a reason behind this and a purpose for all of this.
In times of sorrow, I choose not to believe that bad things happen to good people, or that the devil had this planned all along. No, I choose to believe there is more to know, more to learn, there is a reason and purpose. God is teaching me, He is guiding me to something that I can’t foresee.
So I walk blindly, and follow Him.
Even though I am at landslide of questions, and a lack of answers. I choose to believe.
In the truth of full disclosure, I do not write these words for sorrow. I do not write them for sympathy, I write them because these are the questions that occupy my mind when my body aches and mind can’t think straight.
So I write, and I write to keep myself sane. And I wouldn’t feel right, writing to you to tell you that I am okay, when the truth is far too valuable to jeopardise.
So full disclosure, full honesty, and full faith that God has healed me before – I don’t doubt that He will do it again.
Although so much of me struggled to write this – fully acknowledging that it is so much easier to write a series of events then it is to write about how it made me feel, I can’t let this go.
Take a listen.