The recipe just wouldn’t do: this brew concocted for my veins
I winced in shock when I saw the potential for disaster next week
And made the call to express my concerns, my fears in shaky voice.
The Assistant was gracious, no complaints there but what about him
Whom had not been available yet directs my care via messaging
And has way too many details engaged to respond to my simple needs?
Just to stop the seizures and minimize the suffering is all I really want
But that is the golden coin just beyond my reach now matter how long
And how far, how often, how many, how little, how far-reaching the attempts have been.
You’d think after nearly 5 years since this hell on earth began in my tender frame
That one of these brilliant folk would have figured it out by now, but NO(!), longer I wait —
And believe me I have tried, have prayed, have laid down my sword along the way too.
Nothing of note has come to pass although the hell is generally shorter and less robust
I still live in impending doom every day, still waiting for the spike that rocks my world
And consumes me as much as it frustrates; I hold on to the moments in time I have here or there.
Someday this suffering will be over, I am assured since it was not always here
My Lord, my Savior is coming back for me and His to make all things new and right
And that includes an end to my daily trials: oh how sweet that day will be, maybe soon!
Until then Gentle Reader, say your truth whilst asking for what you need
Let those in the know hear you and stick with those who bother to care
And one day soon, the focus will be on something else than your strife, my dear, guaranteed, guaranteed. JJ