Progress?

Today I went into the hospital for a test.

When I got there the lovely lady administering this particular torture exam told me all about the fact that it could very well make me nauseated or even full fledged sick to my stomach. COOL! I began to flip crap. So as any good emet would do I hit her over the head with a chair and bolted barrage of questions. After being mildly satisfied with her answer I agree to the test, mostly because I want real food and to not be in pain anymore.

So here I am laying on a table with yet another IV in my arm watching her pump in medicine that could very well make me sick. Did I freak out, yes. Did I get up and leave tell her to shove it, no. I call it a win. I'll take it.

A year ago I would have run screaming. I would have cried nonstop and shook and made myself ill. Today I laid there and prayed. I prayed that God would keep me warm and comforted. I closed my eyes and asked to feel Him close to me holding on to me like a child. And He was faithful, just like He says He will be.

It's progress. I am proud of myself. God is faithful.

P.S. When I feel better hide your chocolate. I am going through SERIOUS withdrawals! Holy cats.