The point of no return often starts at the moment of lost hope

What can I can say, the last month’s I have been living in a nightmare. Endless days of pain unbearable wavering on feverish dreams of rest.

What do you do when your life unravels at the seams and there seems to be no thread able to hold you up?

The point I’m in at the moment seems more worthy of a Dean Koontz novel and the victim here is the life I once had and the cure is just out of reach.

I’m no stranger to trouble I’ve had my share and I’ve held tenaciously to hope even against all odds.

This time it seems so different, so finite that I hold my breath only to release it in pent up frustration and despair.

Endless doctors, specialist and more have taken a look at me and pass me off as if I was a bad choice of dinner for their day.

I want to scream, to cry, to laugh like an idiot because it all seems so surreal. I keep wondering if I’m ever going to wake up. Surely this is just a dream within a dream.

Plodding through days and night like a steady soldier ready for battle, longing for sleep I march onward in hopes that this will be the day. The day I’ve long waited for that will end this nightmarish hell I’ve been forced to live in for so very long.

I know it sounds whiny and I’m not trying to be at all.

I’m just tired. Tired of being in pain, tired of nights with no sleep. Tired of endless doctors shooing me onward with little to no effort to get to know me or hear my story.

Surely if only they knew I have a life somewhere, a family I desperately want to be involved in and a job I need to keep my family sustained. Surely if they knew they would listen.

I know if I treated my job and colleagues like they do potential patients I would be jobless and my butt living under a bridge.

I’m past the point of listening to the same tired and rehearsed speech over and over.

I never knew doctors had gotten so smart nowadays that just a five minute glance and they know unequivocally I’m not sick.

What a profession.

Of course they aren’t hobbling from point a to b nor are they crying when they take a shower because the pain is so intense you can’t even breathe.

If that isn’t enough they add insult to injury by putting on my records I am a male. Excuse me if you had looked at me when you spoke you wouldn’t have called me a male.

Not only are they insulting my intelligence by talking down too me they are insulting my appearance by calling me a male.

If this sounds like a bitter diatribe I suppose it certainly is.

Writing is the one and only way to release the frustration that has taken residence in my battered body and wounded heart.

Do any doctors care anymore? Has this society  become so challenged and charged physically we’ve been relegated to the never ending referral list of obscure illnesses?

Please let me know because it feels anything but obscure too me.

I too have a job and I too am responsible for people and their paychecks. If I fail in my job I cost a colleague a paycheck or my company the payment owed by the client.

I take my job very seriously because I actually care about my colleagues and I care about my company.

It’s too bad that doctors waste so much money on education because somewhere most of them have lost their heart and their compassion along with it.

Me, I just want to get back to the life I know how to live. The one where I’m involved not drugged up waiting on that ephinany to hit some doctor square between the eyes that maybe just maybe I’m telling the truth.

I’m not an isolated case for sure. There are countless others who wake up in the same living hell I endure on a day to day basis. Lives of precious people who just want answers not a pharmacy full of meds used to treat a symptom that the doctor in unwilling to find a cause for.

I wish I could say I was walking this out by faith, clinging to God in trusting abandon but I cannot lie. I’m full of doubt, fear beyond breathtaking and tired more than any other trial I’ve endured so far.

Its not that I think God is not faithful or able I know He is. The deal is that after awhile you wonder if God knows where you are and the struggle you face.

Deep down I know He loves me and He cares about me but is it one of those parenting things that you have to watch your child suffer knowing you can’t intervene?

I have friends and family all praying for me which is beyond humbling. I’m so grateful for their endurance with me in this race. At this point I’m willing to just crawl over the finish line if this madness will end when I do.

I don’t mean as in taking my life I mean as in just getting the race over with so I can live again. How I get to the finish line at this point is irrelevant. Somebody just cross the line already.

Can one doctor, just one doctor please sit long enough and have enough compassion to seek out the answer no matter how hard it may be? Will one doctor please just care for once?

My cousin who is a doctor herself has been trying to get someone to listen. She feels the burn everytime I’m not getting the help I need. If only she could be my doctor and she had the answer I would be on my way to recovering.

I feel hopeless and I don’t like feeling hopeless especially when I know God is so very good and Jesus is so very near. Especially when I know His abundant grace towards me and the unending support as a Father He gives.

If only!

Sigh…

I’m hid with Christ!
Shawn