Picture this. Tonight you go to bed weighing 150. Tomorrow you wake up weighing 170. Your pants are tight. After dinner you change into comfy sweats. The next morning you step on the scale and it says 181. What???? It’s getting downright uncomfortable. Should you call the doc? You decide to wait til Monday. By Monday you have a tough time rolling out of bed. You can’t see the numbers on the scale anymore. 193 pounds!!!
Wow. That’s my story …. Except I started at 187. It isn’t at all comfortable. My belly button is scary … like in the “Alien” movies. I hope nothing rips out and eats Robin. She doesn’t deserve that.
Sometimes I just have to laugh. This liver disease stuff is odd. Fat, skinny, emotional , pain, giddiness, desperation, hope. Maybe I’m a 15 year old girl. That would be unfortunate. I’m pretty, I’m ugly, I’m popular, I’m hated, I’m smart, I’m dumb. Arrrgh! I’m so sweet, I’m a gargoyle.
I’m glad that people who invested in me over the years, except for a few hemmroids, taught me of God’s love for me no matter what. They ingrained in me the Truth of His love even when life sucks. Today, even when I’m laying on a cold, tile floor writhing in pain, I sense Him with me crying just as hard. And somehow, that is comfort.
He doesn’t give up on you. I so wish I could convince you of that. I wish.
I’m about to move to another night on the couch sleeping with my legs above my heart. Before I do, I think I’ll watch some of the Brian Regan CD my sister Gail sent me. He’s my favorite comedian. I love his routine about the ER.