As the weeks pass, I see less progress and experience intensified symptoms. I've almost quit complaining and crying about my situation because I'm starting to accept my fate. I am 21 years old now and I have a chronic illness that will haunt me til the day I die. It's daunting because I know what the days head of me are going to feel like. Nausea is the single worst feeling. There is no adapting to it, like you can sometimes with pain. No, nausea severely inhibits everything in your life. It makes it hard to think, talk, move, even breathe. And I feel the nausea all day, everyday with no relief whatsoever. God has given me the strength to learn to function to the best of my ability with a sick stomach, and I praise Him for that. But I continue to look at this warped puzzle piece in my life, wrinkle my eyebrows, and ask, "Where does chronic nausea fit in all of this?" I mean, where does it really? When you look at me, you have no clue that I wanna die I feel so sick, or that I just violently threw up 5 minutes ago. You have no idea the intense weakness I experience each day, or the fatigue, and tremors I battle. Looking at me, you would never know that my bed is a recliner and that sleep seems impossible for me. You never realize that I wear dresses because they put less pressure on my stomach or that I wear flowing shirts to hide the horribly painful bloating in my stomach that can last for weeks. These are daily struggles that I face, and when the world sees me, they have no clue. I have a rare disease and it's main symptom is misery. How can God use it? Where does it fit? Why doesn't it at least fit to a piece with a name- why can't it be something known so that I can respond accordingly?
I get so frustrated and tired of trying to find the matching pieces to my puzzle. The misery I experience can be discouraging. Most nights I hate going to bed because I know that when I wake up the next morning, I will have to suffer through yet another day. I've reverted back to not really telling anyone how severely sick I am. I'm not sure my parents know that I've thrown up at work or while walking in the yard. I don't think they know that the nausea is becoming more than I can bear. I just getting tired of talking about it because there is nothing that can be done to help me. I don't want to share my burden because it's too heavy for others to carry, and I don't want my misery to rub onto anyone else. So I simply bite down and grit through this disease, trying my best to be strong for everyone else, but feeling certain that I fail.
I have put countless puzzles together with my grandmother, and whenever you have a piece that just doesn't seem to fit to some of the others, you simply put it down, move on to another piece, and try again later when you have more of the puzzle completed. My emotional health was severely damaged and once the stomach surgery was over, it crumbled all together. But God provided me with some different puzzle pieces in my life to examine and interlock together. He gave me Ashley, a girl close to my age who is battling some of my same symptoms. This encouraged me to put down my illness for a while, and concentrate on being a source of comfort for her. He also gave me Bobby, a young man who makes me never want to pick up my bent piece and stress over making it fit. Instead, he's the piece I hold in my hand, and I get excited seeing how he interlocks perfectly with other pieces in my life. I'm starting to see the beginnings of a picture, and it has restored my emotional well being. Life is nothing but a mess of puzzle pieces on a table, and there is no lid cover to serve as a guide. It's best, but hard, to be patient while trying to match them all together because there is no quick solution. In frustration we often jam pieces together only to notice later that they truly don't fit, and as a result, the pieces are slightly damaged. My bent puzzle piece bearing my illness, I am learning to slide to the end of the table, so that I can focus on the other pieces God has given me. When I concentrate on putting them together, I tend to have more success and blessings. Sometimes we just have to carefully feel each piece, trust and listen to God, and let Him guide us to their interlocking pieces. When the time is right, I can pick up my bent piece again, and maybe enough of my life puzzle will be put together that I can fit it in. I will always feel the miserable effects of my bent piece as I continue piecing my puzzle, but it doesn't have to be the sole piece i hold in my hand, consuming and frustrating me. I am beyond thankful to God for the new piece He has given me to replace the warped one in my hand. He has known, and always will know, exactly what I need precisely when I need it.
