Tonight

Tonight, I'm not watching American Idol or doing homework or relaxing after a long day.  I'm not working on one of my many projects or tackling my overflowing email inbox.  I'm not reading, creating, or unwinding with a crossword puzzle.

Instead, I'm staring at the blown veins in each of my arms and making a mental list of the five tests and appointments I need to schedule in the morning.  I'm missing the friends I left at school and the patients at work that I'm no longer well enough to care for.  I'm furious and frustrated that the diseased body that has plagued me so long has even become a relentless match against true love, the strongest force on earth.  

As my sister put it last week, I'm just one huge roadblock away from every dream I've ever had, every wish most people see come true.  I'm perpetually jousting off questions that have no answers, while using all of my strength to dispel the question, "Why me?"

I'm knee-deep in new and pending diagnosis (like fibromyalgia, cirrhosis-induced dysautonomia, and chronic fatigue syndrome... to name a few) while I'm just now beginning to cope with and understand the nemeses I've had for years (like primary sclerosing cholangitis and its repercussions).

In the past 33 hours alone, I've gotten an x-ray and and an EKG, two sets of labs, and I've attended three appointments.  I've coordinated a handful of steps in my liver transplant evaluation, filled up the next month and a half with appointments, and sent in three new prescriptions.  I've received two frantic phone calls regarding an abnormal EKG and low lab value, and I've worried about three upcoming procedures.  All since yesterday afternoon.

Yet the crazy part is that this story is true, and it is my life.  This is all I know.  It's my comfort zone.  And although this disgusting cage is my familiar security, I am so tired of every single part of it.  I yearn for all of the things most people take for granted.  Most nights before I close my eyes, I wish I'd be able to wake up from my sedative-induced sleep to realize these years of hell have only been a dream.  But the reality of it all?  Tomorrow never brings a brighter day.  Just tears.  More battles to fight.  Questions harder and harder to silence.

But despite it all, I keep trying.  I keep pleading with hope, begging it to stay.  Begging for a peace.  Just a tiny bit. Even if just for a few minutes... maybe an hour... or for if I dare even ask, a sunny new day.