Hallowed

As I lay resting in my hospital bed with a fuzzy leopard house coat wrapped around me, I watch the time pass by me. And I feel as though the wear and tear of this ordeal is starting to show on my outward appearance, my face is tear stained from the crying over another perfect result, my eyes glazed from drugs being pumped in, and attitude a bit frustrated with a side of frazzled.

The crying was from the MRI results that came back clear of any news. Which is good but sad for someone who has been sick for so long and longs for answers, especially now that I am currently getting a lot sicker.

My eyes are glazed and foggy as even the torratel morphine combo can't keep the pain down.

Yet, my attitude probably shows the most wear as I am extremely frustrated with the psychiatrist the dr. Forced my hand, into seeing. She told me flat out that I look miserable ("Rude!") and continued to tell me that I was sad and depressed even after I told her of my happy childhood. As I answered all her questions I came back to my room not only frustrated with having to see a psychiatrist but pissed off with her rudeness.

Now I lay longing for answers but also a lot less hopeful of ever getting any. The fight must go on and hope must not be lost but for right now, in this moment I feel desperate for everyone to see how real my pain is and have an answer to it or at least some comfort because this is getting to hard. Lord I love you, hallowed be your now when the troubles come in and crash down on me hallowed be your name!

~ElysiaB