A Pillow Soaked with Tears.

I lay hear in bed the clock flashing 2:34 a.m. and my is mind racing. The tears are flowing down my face, along my hair line soaking my pillow. I am alone, B is in Sisters, working. Why the tears?! Cystic Fibrosis.

I have boarded the crazy train, my boarding pass has me seated in 'temporary' and I am not hoping to be upgraded. I want off. I want a refund. I will walk whatever distance. Please God please!

I am afraid. I am lonely. I am starving. I am suffocating. I hate it with every fiber of my being. I hate all it has robbed from me. I hate it for what it will rob me of. I hate that I am crying over it. Hate is NOT a strong enough word.

I want to be free of this g-tube and tubing connecting me to the feeding machine for the next 5 hours of a 10 hour cycle. I want to roll over in bed without having to untangle myself.

I want a cure. Yesterday. Until then my pillow will help dry away my tears.

~Doodlin'