The Devil's Due

       Here I lay in my hospital bed, nearly a year after the first time I had to fight for my life. Ironically enough, I'm currently watching a show on Netflix called Lucifer—plot being unimportant at this time. However, it did get me to thinking what with how it seems as though my parents think that God has abandoned me and them. This past year has truly been one of the toughest of my life, but I cannot imagine the pain and suffering they have both endured. Our finances, while maintainable, are shot, my mom drives for Lyft because my dad can't find a job, my sister seems to want to "feed" her illness rather than feed her own fucking self, and then there's me. 

       Me. Sitting in a hospital bed nearly an EXACT year from the first time I almost died. My mom is switching the night shift with my dad because he can't handle the little party my brother is having at time coupled with my sister's constant theatrics and it's really giving me time to think about what Dr. Kovachev said when we first got checked in. I have until Monday to really make a decision; the gentler option being to raise my MMF to a higher dose and hope for the best OR start the dreaded cyclophosphamide. The "sledgehammer" we've been trying to avoid for a year.

       I wonder how I'll look with a wig on and if we'll be able to find one with my naturally, red hair or anything close to it. I wonder about the look on my potential future partner's face if the treatment makes me sterile. Will that be a deal breaker for them? Would it be a deal breaker for me? Wouldn't I rather be alive to see adopted children or even nieces and nephews grow up and lead wonderful lives then to selfishly want to carry my own children for me to die in the dawn of theirs?

       Going back to watching Lucifer in the hospital—I can't help, but also wonder, what if the Devil were to come to me and ask me what was my deepest desire? To be quite honest, I feel like I wouldn't even know unless he asked me. (Speaking only in the context of the envisionment of the character through the television show and not exactly through the Bible or any other religious text, mind you). Would it be health? Would it be for none of this to have ever happened? I don't know. Would I accept a deal? That's one of the scariest questions that I've come to consider. Would I accept a deal with the Devil to get out of this Hell that I feel I currently reside both inside and out of my body?

       There is so much good in my life and so much joy, but I know what the possibilities could be if I just never got sick in the first place... But is there some grander work at hand? Was I MEANT to get this sick for a reason? It breaks my heart, but for now all I can see is parts of the future I envisioned for myself cracking, falling, and floating away like bits of ash through my fingertips. It's hard to keep heart.

       So, would I accept a deal with the Devil? Only Hell knows.