Dare I blog about the darkest hour in this journey?
Dare I mention six days after returning home that my skin, on the outside and inside of my yahoo and butt, had turned into a tortured, peeling and raw burned mess? That on Tuesday, January 18th, despite the Fentanyl pain patch and morphine that filled my body, I fell to my knees with Bruce on the phone crying and pleading for him to come home and shoot me between the eyes while literally screaming to God for His divine mercy?
"Do you fucking hear me, God???" I wailed over and over. And again.
Well, I suppose there is need to get that out . . .because, well, there it is. The brutal truth.
But understand that as about as quickly as that barbaric pain plowed me over, it left. By Saturday I was morphine and Ambien free. By Sunday, my sweet bottom was 95% healed. Yesterday, there was no need to replace the 72 hr. Fentanyl patch.
And I realize, no matter what demons any of us are facing, no matter how black and painful life can be . . .light does follow.
The darkest hour is just before dawn.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6g4IFJE4oc
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