I’m having a tough day. It appears that I triggered another flare up with the travel and yard work I endured the past few days. The Humira gives modest relief for about three days after each weekly injection. Only two more days until my next one.
I’ve been caught in this chronic nightmare for six and a half years. I don’t think I can endure another twenty or thirty years like this. I did the math. I have endured constant pain for 17.5% of my life. If I see 63, I will have spent 50% in pain.
That’s a far cry from my aspirations of success and happiness in years past. Those are gone. Dreams are silly delusions reserved for children. Reality is cold and hard, and for the lucky ones, well, I’m reminded of Ecclesiastes:
“And I thought the dead who are already dead more fortunate than the living who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been and has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun.”
Ecclesiastes 4:2-3 ESV
I know I may be taking this passage out of context because my oppressor isn’t a man–it’s my immune system that has turned against me.
Life is hard. The novelty is that we don’t know how much we will have to endure nor do we know how long it will persist. Regardless, I hope tomorrow will be better.