Prayer request please!

I am heading off to see our doctor down South early tomorrow morning, as I have been experiencing troubles with my port as of late. The catheter attached to my port has been causing me pain for weeks now (normally I can't feel it at all). We tried the ER closer to home (since it would be nice to avoid the 6 hour drive!) but it didn’t provide the answers needed. Last week I had to remove my gripper the pain was so bad, and have been without my IV fluids for over a week now. I am dehydrated as a result, which causes great pain in addition to my chest and neck pain. Please pray that they can isolate the cause of the pain, and find some sort of remedy.

I also want to thank you all for the prayers; the anonymous and the thoughtful “pick-me-ups”; and encouraging words after my last post. Mentally I am feeling worlds better, and I know I owe it to your care and concern, and many answered prayers.

Blessings and love,

Kate

Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand."   ~John 13:7

I don’t know how I got here. It could be the grueling 2 month marathon I had trying not to throw up everything I ate. It could be those pesky female hormones. It could be a Herx reaction. It could be nature’s course of not feeling hunky-dory all the time. Whatever it is, I am here. Call it what you will, as it changes throughout the day: at the bottom of a pit; drowning; falling apart; standing below a mirror as it falls upon me and shatters into a million little pieces without making a sound, yet rocking me to my very core; suffocating. I feel so depressed I can’t make sense of the good that was and is yet to come, and I hate it.

I hate that I am sick. I hate that my husband has to take care of me, waiting on my every need. I hate what this has stolen from our marriage, our social life, and our dreams for what a life together would be like.  I hate that I can’t take care of my son; be part of his school life; do much anything at all for his physical being. Even helping him put on his pajamas is a struggle at times. I won’t even get started on the mental tug-of-war that revolves around family size and the future ability to have babies.

This pressure; this pressure all around me; from myself; from others—“any idea when you will be better?” Don’t I wish! It has been almost 5 years since that damn tick bit me. Almost 5 years of not feeling normal; not having the strength I used to; to being able to live out who I am in action.

I know there are others far worse off than I. I know I have multitudes of blessings around me. But right now all I can think of is what has been taken from me, what I can’t—despite all my efforts—regain from my place in bed. The light at the end of the tunnel has faded to a pinprick and I don’t know why.

I am not angry at God in all of this. I am just waiting. Not so patiently at the moment; wanting to know when, and if it be His will, why? But most of all I want Him to kick Satan in the teeth for wreaking such havoc on my mind and stealing my hope. Because I am sure there is reason for it to be there, I just can’t see it now.

“Let my cry come before you, O Lord;
    give me understanding according to your word.
Let my supplication come before you;
    deliver me according to your promise.
 My lips will pour forth praise,
    because you teach me your statutes.
 My tongue will sing of your promise,
    for all your commandments are right.
 Let your hand be ready to help me,
    for I have chosen your precepts.
I long for your salvation, O Lord,
    and your law is my delight.
 Let me live that I may praise you,
    and let your ordinances help me.
 I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek out your servant,
    for I do not forget your commandments.”

Psalm 119:169-176