I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Yesterday’s hospital visit took two hours instead of 20 minutes. As I lay in an extravagantly uncomfortable position, after a while they had me get up and go outside and wait because the &^%& computer wanted to be rebooted, start all over. Yes, do the whole thing over again. Time marches on.
What’s that? You thought you were going to go home? Not yet, chumley! You have to see the doctor, and he can ask you questions that you don’t understand. Only when the in-and-out traffic has reached its peak will they let you go. Must’ve been ten thousand people at that hospital.
And we’ll do it all again today!
And it’s only Wednesday.
At least treatment is possible. I know it’s a hassle, and I don’t envy what you are going through, but not that many years ago, there may have been nothing they can do to help your situation. Just remember that is the priority, and if you’re not able to post as often, we all understand and continue to pray.
If I don’t vent now and then I’ll explode.
Vent at will.
We understand, and we care, know God cares, and we pray very often.
Your aunt-the-nun would have told you to offer it up. She would also probably have told to go ahead and vent anyway. My friend Susan used to refer to venting as a kvetchathon. (I miss Susan very much.) Seriously, making suffering into a narrative gives us some control over it.
Thanks, Phoebe, I’ll try to take that advice (always listen to Aunt Betty!).