If There is Truly a God and a Satan
Up until last night I was able to find the little things in life that bring me joy. But I have…
If There is Truly a God and a Satan
Up until last night I was able to find the little things in life that bring me joy. But I have…
Up until last night I was able to find the little things in life that bring me joy. But I have almost given up as the truth is inside this house, there is no joy.
Moaning, screams of pain, rambling on where no words can be understood. Doctors saying nothing else can be done are just more than I can handle any longer.
With Al being mentally challenged and completely bed bound there are no lessons for him to be learning anymore. Al can not see beyond the pain any longer. I can’t accept the answers that God may be using his illness to teach me something.
In fact that just irritates the crap out of me. I want to scream out loud, Don’t even use my brother to teach me a lesson. For then the guilt I carry within seeing him suffer is way beyond the stability that I try to carry.
If God has a lesson to teach me or if God thinks that by letting Al continue to suffer it will back fire, because all I can feel is anger within at seeing him suffer.
The moments that Al is not asleep is pure hell here. His body is contracted, his body is burning up. His vision is total blur. His body doesn’t tolerate the high doses of medications he is on. There is no balance. If you give him higher dose he abuses himself from the opposite effect the medicine should have.
The doctors are refusing to give him anything else. They don’t know the answers either. And if they don’t know the answers after years of schooling how can anyone expect me to know them.
When Al is awake I can hear Al screaming out, ” Please, please help me. Somebody help me. God why aren’t you taking me home?” These are words that are repeated so many times I can not begin to count them.
I can bring no comfort, no joy to his life. I have begun to feel like Al and I are actually living in hell and if there is a heaven, then surely this will be his reward when he passes. I continue to beg God,” If you truly exist than take him home now. There is no more perfect moment than now.” But, nothing happens. Al is still here and suffers a little more each day.
If Satan has tried every trick he has then he is winning over Al and it is trickling into me also. If there truly is a God and a Satan, which one is winning?
Last night things were going pretty smooth here at home with Al and his illness. It came time to get his bedtime snack and medications. I popped in to ask him what he wanted and he was asleep.
It took a few moments to get him to actually wake him up. He let me know what he was hungry for and I went and got everything ready. He ate and I played on the computer so I could hear if he needed me.
When he rang his bell to let me know he was finished I went in and decided to sit down and chat with him for a while before getting him ready for bed. It was then that everything changed.
I sat down in his wheel chair and he looked at me and his face instantly changed. He went from sober faced to crying big tears. It threw me off guard for sure. I immediately asked, ” What’s the matter bud? Why the tears?”
” What, what did you say?
” You are sitting on God. He is sitting right there. He is telling me I am being stubborn.”
I immediately jumped up from the chair and took a seat on his bed. Now granted, I didn’t really think I was sitting on God’s lap, but instincts kicking in, I jumped right a way. I asked,” What did God tell you again?”
” He just told me I am being stubborn. He said I won’t close my eyes and let him take me to heaven.”
Wow, I was speechless. First I was sitting on God and then I evidently interrupted a very important conversation. Al was calm, then crying, then hysterical. He was screaming loud enough that I had to close his bedroom window for fear of neighbors thinking I may be over here beating Al or some crazy thing.
I actually don’t know if I said it right, did it right, or what ever I was supposed to actually do but I remember using explanations of what could actually be happening.
” Bud, you were sleeping when I came in here. You were probably dreaming. Al it is the show. It is sad and it is about God, maybe we should change the channel and watch Pawn Stars. Bud, maybe it is Satan trying to fool your mind, getting you all upset.”
This is when he let loose on me. He looked at me with big eyes and with the strongest voice I have heard in some time he said, ” No, I am not confused. God was here. You sat on him and now he is gone. He told me I am being stubborn.”
Well, I wasn’t going to argue any points. He was adamant on what he saw and heard. How can I judge or argue anyways? He is the one closer to seeing God than I am, I think.
It took quite a while to get Al settled down enough for me to think I could safely put him to bed. He went through two hankies before I got him into bed.
Finally I got him to stand up and I changed him and placed him in bed. He was correctly positioned and I asked him if he needed anything else. He told me, ” No, I am fine but do me a favor. Don’t sit on God anymore.”
I turned the lights off and left the room. I felt a little spooked inside. I didn’t know what to think. I went straight to bed and lay there in the dark trying to digest what had just taken place.
I don’t know what happened, but I was happy this morning when Al rang his bell letting me know he was ready to get up.
I don’t know how the body works. I can’t figure out how you can take such high doses of medications, guaranteed to make you go to sleep land, but it doesn’t happen. This was my brother last evening.
He had only an hour and a half sleep the night before. He was a wake all day long except a small cat nap. He was wired. Not from the medications but from the tremors. He was like a beautiful butterfly never-resting. Visiting each flower, never stopping, never staying.
As I sat there watching him I suddenly got angry. Some of you may agree with what I am about to say. Yet others will think bull crap. No matter, I have to write what I believe. I realized the fight that was going on for Al and me.
Not only are we fighting this terrible M.S.A. we are fighting the dignity battle, the loss of what one was able to do and still remember it. The depression that kicks in, lack of eating. I could go on and on but why bore you.
What I realized is there was someone outside our box that was having a kick-ass good time at Al and my expense. There was a thing, a person, a particle that was interrupting our lives and it dawned on me it was none other than Satan.
I had to look outside the box. I had to get the best picture my brain could focus on.
There is a lot of talk about God in our house. Heaven and death are mentioned multiple times throughout the day. Al is getting closer to meeting God and Satan is throwing a fit.
How do we fight Satan? How do we not give in when we can barely understand something we have never seen? Faith, yes, this is the answer. The word of reading God’s word brings us strength in God.
People praying is another way to remain strong. Al and I have people all over the world praying. Oh Satan you just don’t like this party you have attended do you? Admit it, you have had your grasp on us so many times, but it is frightening you right now.
You can feel it, you can see it, that God is going to win this one. You will be the big loser you filthy beast. You will rot in hell as you have been promised.
Al was staring at me and I kept asking him what was it that he needed. He didn’t answer. He would just tremor, cry and look into my eyes. God must have whispered in my ear, or one of our angels was near me.
I got up and went and got my Bible. I brought it back to Al’s bedroom.
Silently I prayed to God. I can’t remember which verses Lord I need to be reading in order to help Al. Please take over and help me flip to the right verses. Thank-you God ahead of time for answering this prayer.
I started with a couple of Psalms that I had been told about by a blogging friend.
Then I started flipping to pages and would come across a verse here and there that I thought may help.
I read to Al for about fifteen minutes. I stopped after the last verse and looked up at Al and he was quiet. His tremors were at rest. His head was even laying against the pillow. He was on his back looking peaceful and asleep.
I laid my bible down and looked at the clock. It was almost 1:00. God had helped me to find the way to bring rest for Al. It seemed to easy, and it probably was if I would have just considered my options.
Instead, I had been stressing about how I was going to get some sleep. I am not going to lie. I am tired as I read this. Way before the sun could begin to rise Al called out to me. But, thanks to God I had a few hours of sleep instead of one.
Life is new today. Al and I will have battles to fight. But for three hours during the wee hours of the night, the war between Satan and God was over. There was peace and rest. God had lowered a soft covering of closed eyes. He had blanketed Al with sleep dust and we slept.
Thank-you Lord for carrying us through the night. I know you are always here if I would just ask you will do everything for our good. I get too wrapped up in my earthly body. I stress and I probably will stress again. I cry out and I know I will continue. I hurt and I am tired, but so is Al. We are creatures that do not deserve your love Lord, but you give it to me any ways. Thank-you for dying on that cross for Al and me.
I wanted to write this post before Al gets home so I can look at him and be happy and smile as if nothing is going on. Actually my insides are filling like I ate a bowl full of cow crap. If I went into the bathroom I am sure I would have no problem being sick to my stomach.
But instead I am drinking the hottest coffee my innards can take and puffing a way on my cigarettes.
Actually today was a good morning. Nice and calm. Got Al up and the morning went smooth. All weekend I have been playing mind games with myself. I guess it is the devil actually playing with me if I am real honest. I am a firm believer of God but yet Satan manages to squeeze his slimy ass into my thoughts.
The game I have been wrestling with and winning on my own cheating methods is called, Al is not really that sick. The doctors are wrong. Maybe we don’t really need Hospice. It is a really fun game. You look at Al and you have seen more smiles this past several days. He is talkative and carries on conversations with me better than usual.
I blamed his foul attitude on the lack of proper care at the nursing home. I blamed the too dry food they served. I blamed them for the lack of personal attention. I was winning this game in my mortal mind and I actually spoke to the Hospice nurse today when we had our meeting.
I bragged to her about how Al got his new truck over the weekend. How he has held it and talked about it hours upon hours. I bragged how he has smiled. She sat there and was taking notes from what I stated and she smiled, but it didn’t seem like a genuine smile.
You know those smiles I am talking about. The ones that you wonder if they were glued on with Elmer’s glue? I dismissed it because after all, she was jotting on her note pad. She then turned from my friend/nurse and became a drill sergeant.
She asked,” Is he urinating ok?”
“Is he having any problems eating?”
“Well some, a little choking and I had to feed him off and on this weekend, but no big deal.”
“Has he had any problem with sleeping?”
“Oh no, he sleeps a lot.”
“How often do you think he sleeps in a waking day?”
“Well, um, probably about fifty percent while he is here through the week nights.”
“Has he had any problems with his memory?”
“Well, um, a little. He asked for his bed time snack right after breakfast. He told me he had just finished supper.”
“What about his vision?”
“Well I have noticed that he couldn’t see the remotes properly. One time he couldn’t see the table that he hangs onto when he gets in bed, but I think it was only twice over the weekend.”
She is jotting to the point I am thinking about offering her one of my own pens in case hers runs dry. The questions are over and she reverts back to the friend/nurse. She says that she is now ready to go see Al.
We go and knock on his classroom door letting them know we are here. Al looks at the nurse who he has seen at least six or seven times now and ask, “who are you?”
The nurse looks at me and then smiles at him and tells him who she is. She proceeds to take his vitals. She hesitates on his heart area, re checking two different places. My own heart begins to race slightly but I ask no questions as she doesn’t say anything either.
After vitals are done she checks his ankles for swelling. They are always swollen but no more than usual. She checks his eyes and then she checks his hands and fingernails. She chats with him a little bit about his new truck and then she and I excuse ourselves from the class.
Once out in the hall we usually chat alone for a few minutes. Stating when she will be back. Making sure we wish each other good days until the next visit. You know the routine my friends. Chat, chat, kiss, kiss, hug, hug.
Instead she said, ” I know you want to believe that Al is getting better. Whether you use Hospice or not is your choice, but Al is declining.”
I am thinking, what? I just told you about all the chatter and smiles this past few days.
She goes on to say that I am in denial. Not me, I never deny anything. I always like the truth except for today.
She said that Al’s memory is starting to slip a little more. She was surprised that he didn’t know her. Well, that is no big deal, sometimes I forget my own name. LOL
She said that Al’s heart didn’t sound as strong. Uh-oh
She said that his hands are taking on a different look. His fingernails were gray half-way from the moons. She said his pinky finger had a disturbed look to it, that it was a little dark. Oh, I see
She told me her job is to make Al comfortable. She went on to say he is comfortable here at home and used to his class at Day Program, but no, the illness has not started to get better.
She said that I better get things settled within my own mind because Al’s breathing and heart are changing too. Her last words to me before we said goodbye were, he is following the path as most patients follow that are on Hospice.
I smiled at her and she gave me a big hug. Tears formed in my eyes. She left and I sat in my car and lit a cigarette. Taking off down the street it is hotter than hell here and the humidity is terrible. I didn’t even notice it as all I could do was make sure my eyes were clear enough from tears to drive.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com,DP, Daily Prompt
Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us FORBIDDEN.
The one thing I will never talk about on my post is friends and family’s private issues. To write and tell about sad things or struggles or troubles others have is benefiting no one but Satan.
Satan loves it when we humans mess up. When we hurt others and destroy with our tongue. I am not much of a gossiper either. When I am talking to my best friends about things, there is talk about others in our conversations.
Usually speaking of others is because we want the other to know some of the situation so they will pray for our loved ones.
We all have problems. None of us can live on this planet and not be faced with meteorites at times. If we spent all of our time talking to everyone else about what he know or have heard, how could we do the Lord’s work?
How could we lay down at night and sleep a restful night? I think we all were brought up with manners.
Now manners is something that is becoming void from our lives. Not all but some have tossed this word out the windows as if it was left-over coffee in our cup.
How easy is it in today’s world to do something we were brought up to know was wrong and yet think nothing of it. Look at the divorce rate today. What about the children who are being tossed into the streets. Or what about the school shootings?
People who we were taught to look up to are the ones in the spotlight for living a less than respectable life. It is a sad situation that is happening and the very worst part is we don’t flinch like we used to.
We are actually becoming used to it. We, you and I are the ones who are held accountable for our actions. Not the courts, not our spouses or children nor the neighbors. You, me, we are the ones who open our mouths, make the choices to do as we wish.
I would be taking a great risk of speaking out of line. Butting into others lives, giving words at free will. So when someone tells me something, unless I am given permission, my lips are sealed.