Kicking and Screaming...

I will be honest and say that I’m not too thrilled about this journey I am about to embark on. I’ve been infected with a virus–fungi that I have been dressing with home remedies and not seeking the proper medical attention that I need. So I am certain that this will be a nasty healing process. Unfortunately, I can’t have any visitors as I may infect them with this terrible disease and, because of my compromised immune system I am susceptible to any crawling or creeping thing that may latch onto me.

I’m checking myself into the hospital. I am going to be cut open, evaluated and forced to deal with the issues I have ignored and self-medicated for so long. So much so that I figured my pain was only natural. I became “numb” to or, rather, “okay” with the pain and only when it became so severe that my home remedies, dressings, and self-medication couldn’t fix anymore did I realize something was wrong. I realized that my so called “remedies” were only making matters worse for me, and now I’m sure both my surgery and my bill will be much extensive for the damage that could have– should have been prevented.

This is my journey. I unwrap myself and see festering, spoiling, pussing, rotting flesh that must be removed and cleaned and purged from my skin if I want to live. There’s a stench that repels those from around me as I continue to act oblivious to my pain and selfishness to even expose those around me to myself. I am their threat and a threat to myself.

I don’t want to go under into a slumber of restless nights, heart pounding and gut turning dreams. I don’t want to arise out of my sleep to be forced to recognize and deal with my pain. I will become immobile under the Doctor’s anesthesia, taking away all of my control and promoting a “blind faith”. I don’t want to deal with the pain of being opened up and closed again. I care not to go through the healing process and cleaning of wounds…

The truth is I knew I needed medical attention long before the pain began to paralyze me. I knew that things were making a turn for the worst when my wounds would not heal… but I used up all of my band-aids and dirt and dressing. 

I’m still trying to manage my own pain with my dosages of pain killers and sleeping pills, hoping to awake when it’s finally over. Since I know I’ll be in some sort of solitary confinement, I claw at people passing by me, begging them for a second opinion because maybe their diagnosis will insist that my condition isn’t that bad… However, the pain that waits for me in my early morning rising that harbors itself inside of my chest, proves to rest too close to my heart– this is serious.

All that’s left is a choice between life and death, and I choose life. 

I’m admitting myself into the hospital kicking and screaming, but I know I need to be here…

So, I am getting ready for my surgery. I’m fasting from solid foods and liquids. I’m getting my paperwork ready and taking the supplements required before going under. I must be careful to follow every step carefully and fully. There will be no shortcuts. I want to be healed from this infectious disease.

I want to be able to breathe freely and for my heart to function properly. I need this stone removed from my chest and this darkness from my eyes. I need this parasitic disease that feeds on my life line to be purged from me and for the healing to begin. 

At this point, I’m desperate for anything the Doctor has for me. I have tried everything and clearly I have no idea what I’m doing.

I'm getting ready.