Anniversary

Today is my Anniversary. One week ago today, I asked my Sweetie to drive me to the hospital Emergency Room. Again. The fifth time this year. Going to the hospital Emergency Room. Again. This time, it was because I had terrible pain in my stomach. Again. The fourth time this year. Again. I figured they'd stick a tube down my nose. Again. I'd stay in the hospital a few days. Again. They'd get me unclogged. Again. I was annoyed. I was discouraged. Here we go. Again. But I knew the drill. They did stick a tube down my nose. OWWWW!! But then, the surgeon comes in. He shows us the CT scan. Just looks like a big gray blob to me. He says the CT scan shows everything in my belly is like an overinflated balloon. If he doesn't go in there, NOW, something might pop. Something in your belly popping is bad. Really bad. So he wants to operate. NOW. I lay there, stunned. The deer in the headlights. Surgery, emergency surgery. Like back in January. Again. My Sweetie starts crying. Like back in January. This is too much! Yes. Yes it is. And here we go. Again. They start prepping me for surgery. I can't believe this. Again. My daughter shows up to be with my Sweetie. Thank you, Dear! You know, they gotta tell you. Maybe death. Maybe stroke. Maybe you'll wake up with a bag stuck to your belly for the rest of your life. Thanks for the encouragement! Me, I feel like I've gotten on the roller coaster. Before the ride starts. "Can I get off, NOW??!!" They shoot something into my IV. I'm out. I wake up. They're wheeling me into a hospital room. I feel, not that bad. Then the happy juice wears off. Then I feel, that bad. Really bad. My belly hurts. My nose with the tube hurts. I am exhausted. I spend the night, staring at the ceiling. I spend the night, staring at the clock. One. One-thirty. Two. How can that clock be goin' so darn slow?! How can one night feel like forever?! Saturday. My nose hurts. My belly hurts. I am exhausted. Pain and exhaustion are a powerful team. There was more than one time Saturday that I started crying. "I can't take this! I can't take this anymore!" The pain. The exhaustion. The hospital. Again. My Sweetie would tell me, "God is with us. God understands." Folks were texting me. They are praying for me, praying for us. And I am crying. "I can't take this! I can't take this anymore!" Saturday was LONG. Night came. I encouraged my Sweetie to go home. She is exhausted. I was dreading another night. Staring at the ceiling. Staring at the clock. How can that clock be goin' so darn slow?! A church member texts me: "Don't be sad, and don't be blue, because you have people praying for you." I held on to that, to help me make it through the night. Around 2, I turn on a Gospel music station. The song goes--"God is faithful. He's got a plan." I held on to that, to help me make it through the night. Yesterday, I came home from the hospital. My belly looks like something from a Frankenstein movie. How many staples did they put in?! I don't wanna look!! This morning, while I'm writing this, a friend has sent a message, "sending prayers." Thank you, Nancy! I need prayers! And so does everybody else. Something to help us, make it through the night.