Dear Body of Mine:
You sure are a lemon.
I have known this for a long time but damn girl, you just keep on breaking down on me as I coast along trying to live my life the best I can.
Some brickhouse you are.
After all I do for you. I take all the medications you require, I allow you to rest a lot and I keep you hydrated, mostly. Ok, so I stuff you with delicious food and libations, maybe more than I should, but I do it out of love (for you and the food).
Better to have a full tank than keeping you on empty which is not good for the engine, anyway.
Why do you keep betraying me? What have I ever done to you? I am getting so I really cannot trust you. I am afraid to rely on you to keep me safe.
This past weekend you allowed an infection to enter my bloodstream.
We have talked about this and I though I made it clear that I am not to get infections and definitely NEVER in my blood.
I know I cannot blame it all on you. I realize that without a spleen you have to work even harder to keep me alive. But as I recall, it was you who rejected my spleen and allowed it to attack my platelets. It is called an autoimmune response. Whatever the name, it is not very nice.
You did warn me on Friday by giving me excruciating back pain and making me shiver with an awful case of chills. I’ll give you that. I suppose the fever was a pretty clear warning that things were going downhill fast. I thank you for that but why did you allow the infection to go sepsis in the first place?
You landed me in the ER having to have a spinal tap. That was not fun was it? It was a huge needle and it had to go into my back which was already in pain. That was definitely cruel.
Not to mention the oceans of blood taken from my veins to help figure out what was happening. Oh, and the hospital food. How could you make me have to look at it, smell it and taste it? For that, it may take even longer than expected, to forgive you.
I am home now. You are behaving at the moment and letting me rest. I am exhausted and weak.
I have a lot to do, like getting my son launched in his new apartment in college and getting my daughter ready for her freshmen year. Not to mention enjoy the rest of summer.
So I beg you, body of mine, to step it up –ASAP!
Grow some cojones, will ya?
Do what you were hired to do and fight the invaders trying to hurt me. Remember that you are my security team. My first line of defense.
As angry as I am at you for screwing up big time, I cannot help but feel somewhat grateful. The fact that I am alive means that you responded as you should have to the antibiotics and allowed me to live. For that, I thank you.
But the real thanks goes to God for giving me another chance.
I thank Him for blessing me and letting me be here for my family.
I thank Him for giving me the opportunity to continue to enjoy life and be the silly happy person I am.
Respectfully Angry at You,