Trapped

The past few days have been an utter decline for me. I’ve had bouts of crying each day because I’m terrified of what’s to come. Each night I fall asleep begging for peace, and each morning I wake unready for the struggles that await me. 

Then starting yesterday I developed a sour stomach, a nausea and queasiness I haven’t felt since chemo. The blistering hot weather made me feel like I was cooking from the inside out. I would break out in a clammy sweat and start shivering. Today I took my fever, perfectly normal, yet still I would break out in a clammy sweat, down to soaking my undergarments. 

I sat around the whole day, looking for a distraction from my malaise. I found myself trapped, twice. It was a comfort from Miss Pepper. 

The reality is that I wasn’t trapped by her. I have felt trapped in this body for a while. I’m trapped in this sickness and I just want to scream!! Everything scares me, I’m so frightened! My body keeps shifting and changing and rebelling and my very normal mind keeps screaming into the void - STOP! Stop already! 

I’m terrified of what will be left of me by Friday. I’m scared that I will be a shell of myself when I undergo surgery. I’m barely surviving the days and nights, what will become of me when, God-willing, I wake up on the other side of the surgery?! I’m not a superhero! I don’t have superhuman strength to withstand anything. I’m so broken right now, I’m so battered and flailing in the wind. 

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go (Joshua 1:9).