And a little something special from my past:
Tag: chronic
I miss you
A Letter to My Former Self:
I miss you dear one:
Your silliness, creativity, spontaneity, occasional complaints.
You have left me here quite empty
With shards of who you once were hanging in a forgotten frame.
If only she would come back
All things would be right again with the world, no?
Yeah that is a definite nada
Since we can never retrace the exact steps that brought us here anyways.
“So what to do with my longing?” I ask.
That’s a tough question barely understanding the answer that has come,
For we will not be happy back there
This foolery we must shed to fully be present in the “now.”
For Christ alone provides the joy within
Not circumstances nor that driven by the shallowness of this life.
Better to place one’s heart in the Lord’s hands today
And consider the blessings that would have been missed had we gone another way.
I cannot get back what has been lost all these years
Better for me not to miss the opportunity before me this very hour,
Than to have myself facing the wrong way when my Savior comes to take me home. JJ
The Medicine Cabinet
Pray tell how much do you think I can hold
In my shelves bursting forth from the orders?
“Try this, take that, or Google the one I heard about”
Becomes license for judgement once thought to be clinical.
Not learned in school but that of “hard knocks”
The ideas flow too simply during paid consultations
Such is the life of a lab rat in the cauldron of illness
Where test results get mixed with expensive remedies.
So I look up interactions online thanks to drugs.com
Although many will be borne out of a bad trip on a Tuesday
When I try your best guess out of desperation, my last dime
And occasionally find relief or find hope a fraction of the time.
“I’ll take it,” I say under my breath as a new protocol prints out
My medicine chest overfloweth, my fingers sore from researching
Til someday the Lord crafts a breakthrough I shall not give up:
For the Great Physician love me more than this infirmity for sure.
Just look up, look out Gentle Reader if you suffer along too
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged,
for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.
Vampire Diaries 4
How many lives do I have left?
The cat might ask after a near-miss,
Such is my ponderings this night
As yet another disaster was thwarted.
They sent me meds altered in color
In different bags than I had known
An infusion today would have doubled the dose
And sent me aloft to never-never land.
I caught it at once (albeit rattling my cage!)
Quickly they offered to cover their tracks
Shall I trust them once more this time, alas
They have made less grievous errors before . . .
Feels like the night I saw the angels came
Surely life is marked for more than this (?)
The suffering has been great despite the holiday
With less beatings today (yeah) guess my brain’s awake.
Carry on as this life drones with the beast chronic Lyme
Drugs, pills, tinctures, creams, shots, IVs, diets,
Saunas, flushes, therapies, back crackers, tests
The list goes on as the procured money bags yet drain.
I guess it’s all meant to be like this alright, eh?
When hazy is the road hanging onto my Lord’s cloak
Hoping for an infusion of, well, hope not more strife
I cry, “thank you Jesus for Your Divine grace once again.”
Maybe soon may we get in a little more playtime than this? JJ
Vampire Diaries 3
“It’s only a day away,”
The curly haired girl would sing on stage
‘Cause the sun did come out “tomorrow”
And that was all that shined over here, alas.
Bedbound once again
I search my mind in wonder:
What penance doth I need to serve?
What sin doeth I need forgiveness?
Thy husband is off on his adventures
And I am here, alone with you
Exasperating in another lost day
Where even the counselor had little to say.
My Lord is silent on such an occasion
Perhaps waiting for me to simply dwell
And know that He is there
Even when I cannot see, feel, or touch His face.
Is this my fate, I ask to the silence around me?
Perhaps it is. Perhaps nothing will ever change.
I am to rejoice the Scriptures tell me forthright
That must come from grace for my strength fails,
Lest a key drops into my space with some goodness
This day I will simply breathe one nare at a time
(Until the pounding in my head subsides, alas.)
Jesus is for the Wounded 
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