I wear a scapular around my ankle.
It's a Christian tradition that's usually worn around the neck, but I've stuck it on my ankle.
I've done this since I know if something were to happen (say cardiac arrest) that piece of fabric would be cut so quick.
And I can't have that.
I want my scapular.
According to my beliefs, this gaurantees graces before death: confession, sacrament of the sick and entry into heaven.
Yes, I said it.
Everyone who knows about my raggety cloth wants one.
Who doesn't want a gaurantee into the beauty of the afterlife?
Still, I wonder if there is something I can do, could have done, or did do to control my disease.
Where is my cure? Where is my relief?
Originally, I felt like this was a punishment and sometimes I still do, but I could no longer be suffering for any ills I've done.
I've suffered too much.
Now I wonder if I'm carrying a cross for the evils that are raging all over this world.
There are so many.
Then I wonder if I'm still contributing to the wrongs.
Who am I, miss Holier-than-thou, to believe I suffer for a greater good? I wonder what more I have to let go to move on from this disease, and even scarier, what exactly is moving on? Is it death or a cure? Are the successes I hope for just vanity? Is it contributing to my disease? I am happy I can use my disease to hopefully help others.
I'm accomplishing almost everything I've dreamed of, but how does my disease, my life, my family define me?
I dreamt last night, or thought, or read, who knows all my levels of consciousness are blending together, that life is only something that can be understood backwards.
So I'll just keep praying for the insight to suffer with blind faith that I am a piece of God's plan.
Until then, I'll keep wearing my scapular and praying I'm doing God's work.
I'm heading for another check-up today, testing my blood levels, and probably receiving an infusion.
Happy Monday. Let's hope this week goes better for everybody.