Running, running. Chest pounding. Breathing ragged. Trying, trying to get rid of this pseudomonas infection. Turn to the left, door slammed. Turned to the right, brick wall. Flee to the emergency department. “Help! I can’t breathe!” Antibiotics administered. Admitted to the hospital. Oh, let this hospitalization end well.
Days pass. Things are going well. Time for discharge. Before my eyes, everything falls apart. “How can this happen again!” No one contacts my insurance to get approval for my outpatient antibiotics. I need home health, but that is another near impossibility. Time passes. My patience grows thin. Out the door I go, empty-handed. The infection is not completely treated.
Days pass. The infection comes back. My health deteriorates. I wonder why I even bother wasting my time trying to get medical attention. Tears stream down my face. I am exhausted. I feel so defeated. I just want to be well. Why is God making this so hard? I know all trials come from God, but I beg Him for a reprieve. Perhaps some day, some day soon, God will heal my pseudomonas infection. Until then, I keep on keeping on, trying to persevere through each day.
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