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November 14, 2016

Please Listen

My husband was awakened by me crying last night. Do you want to know why I was crying? Because sickness is hard. Even though I am getting better, I am still sick, and it is still hard. And you know what one of the hardest parts of being in such a place is?

Watching scads of people around me getting sick and doing nothing about it.

Okay, some think they're doing something about it. They're trying to eat more salads and drink less pop. Or they're trying to exercise a couple days a week. Or they're taking whatever pill is the latest bandaid their all-knowing doctor has chosen for whatever symptom(s) is the most annoying. Or they're doing nothing at all but expecting God to up and heal them and save them the trouble.

Or they actually are doing nothing about it. Because at the end of the day, health is not really that big of a deal. Definitely not worth such drastic measures as giving up the foods or habits they can't live without or making inconvenient lifestyle changes.

And this leaves me in tears.

Any of you reading this who know me at all, in person or online, know I'm sick. You've gathered I rarely leave the apartment and I frequently don't make it to church. You know I have that whole Etsy shop thing but I don't have a real job and supposedly am not able to get one. You know I've mentioned how making dinner and doing the dishes on the same day doesn't always happen, and when it does it's my big accomplishment for the day.

You know I am suffering. And you maybe don't know but surely can guess that the accumulation of all of the above does result in a kind of misery. I am getting better, and I know and trust that God is using this suffering for something bigger than I can see. But in the mundane everyday and in the face of the gifts I was given and am currently unable to use, in a marriage where I constantly struggle with how much I think I should be able to contribute and how little I actually can, in the grand scheme of seemingly everyone else's daily productivity and success in any area of life and my own pitiful contrasting amount, you could say I am a kind of miserable. Not because I am depressed, not because I don't have faith, but because chronic. illness. is. freaking. hard.

So I have to ask, how do you think sickness of this level starts?

It starts a little at a time. One infection. One gene mutation. One virus that lodges itself in you. One food allergy. One accident. All of those things? They happen. That is life. There are germs, there are sicknesses, there are gene mutations, there are accidents. But add them all together over the course of even just a childhood, and they can team up to wreak havoc on your body and take you down. Slowly.

Until one day your body has all it can take. And you? You become me. You are left with a B.A. you cannot use. Children you cannot take care of. A job you cannot get out of bed to get to. Gifts with no ability to use them. Dreams that seemed hard to reach while healthy but that are now laughable.

Am I trying to scare you? Yeah, I am. Because I'm starting to think that's the only way, besides prayer, I might get anyone's attention.

Here in my kind of misery, my tears, I am wishing, hoping, thinking surely all of you who are aware of my suffering and either seemingly healthy or just beginning to witness a decline would take me as an example. That you would think, "Gosh, I better nip this _____ in the bud now so I don't get as bad off as Kacie." But I have seen no one do anything that indicated such a thought process. I have seen the opposite.

Can you please do that, for me? Can you do me a favor and care about your own health, for your own good? Can you make my suffering worthwhile, use my body's breakdown as an example to you of what could happen and do everything in your power to prevent that?

Prior to the day my body had all it could take, I did not know any better. I knew none of this, so even in maddening retrospect, there is nothing I could have done to start truly taking care of my body and to find the treatment I am doing sooner than I did. And I did not know how valuable health was because I hadn't yet experienced the loss of it.

I now sit here, on the far side of health, seeing in all its blazing glory how valuable what I have lost is. How miraculous it is to be able to go to sleep when it's dark, get up in the morning, get yourself ready, go to work or take care of your kids all day. Go buy groceries, make dinner, and do the dishes. Dust and vacuum the house and clean the bathroom. Make plans for the weekend or your birthday or Thanksgiving like it's nothing. Because when you have health, that's what it is to you: nothing.

But when you lose it, you realize it was everything.

In my tears, from the bottom of my heart, I am begging you: make my suffering worth it. Take my broken body as an example. Remember this post, remember my words, remember my tears when you are crushed under yet another migraine. When no amount of salads are making you lose the weight. When your stomach is unexplainably upset yet again. When your cholesterol just won't go down. When you keep finding yourself anxious for no reason. When mysterious skin rashes just keep coming. When your brain isn't quite as sharp as it used to be. When you find yourself having to nap every chance you get. When your body aches and screams through another day of work.

Remember me. Realize what you stand to lose if you don't try to win now. Find out the root reason your body is rebelling in the way it is rebelling. It's just trying to get your attention, just like I am.

Please listen.

{If you need someone to point you in the right direction of health and cheer you on as you reach for it, I'm here. Please feel free to contact me.}

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