I sit here, up late, thinking about tomorrow. Infusion day. I did my research and made my choice. Am I making too big a deal of it? Probably. Will I even publish these thoughts? Who knows. I have no idea how I will react to the medicine. I have no idea if it will work or not. I have no idea if it will give me my old life back, and if so, at what cost? Really, that is what worries me. Not so much how tired it will make me. Not so much if it will make me sick. My greatest fear is that, what if it doesn’t work at all? What then? More waiting? More pain? More progression of this disease that has stolen so much already?
One thing it will not steal. It will not steal my hope.
I will get up tomorrow, hug my kids and kiss them awake. I will remember to continue to do my best to be strong, because really, there is no other choice. I will go to the Dr, let them pump my body full of chemicals with the hope that they can stop my own body raging war on itself. With any luck, afterward, I’ll head home, catch a nap, and be good as gold by the next morning.
Remicade could be the liquid gold that many swear it is. But right now, as I get ready for bed, the night before my first, all I can do is hope, pray, and have a little faith.
A Little Faith
Be patient, God is good and He will show you the way.