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Okay, be ready for a few walls of text...

I grew up in a Christian home, my dad a pastor, my grandfather a pastor. I was told I prayed the sinner's prayer at five years old. Life was good, no major problems. Then I noticed I was wavering in my faith. I was going to a summer camp one year not too long ago and reaccepted Christ. What a feeling that was! Such joy in my heart! I felt I could run a million miles without tireing. Of course, I stubbed my toe on the way out of the evening service, but it didn't hurt! I'm telling you, you will know the Joy of the Lord once you feel it. It's so...addicting! Anywho, we played capture the flag that night and I helped out, mostly guarding the line for my team, I'm not much of a runner.

Sixth grade. New tactics, new friends, old friends, and a stale relationship with God. I ended up breaking both my arms in October, giving me an opportunity to stay at home for a while. By that time, my family had been moved from another church (we seemed to have trouble staying in one church for more than two years) and I was a part of, practically, no church. I was extremely sad, because the next year, I would've been able to go to youth group with my dad as the leader. Well, one night while I was in both casts, obviously, and in a bathrobe (I was wearing pjs) someone knocked at the back door. It was one of my old church buddies with a gigantic poster saying "Get Well Soon!" with everyone's signatures on it. I still have it...somewhere. After my arms healed, my family finally got accepted in another church.

Eighth grade. The year of nightmares for me. Yet again, my health failed on me. In October (anyone getting the hint here that there's something amiss?) I was rushed to the hospital on a Sunday night. The 11th, I believe, 10:45 pm, waiting for the doctor's responce. They couldn't treat me near my home, so they sent me down to Pittsburg in an amblence with little over one hour of sleep on a three hour ride. The gerny was fun, for a while. When we got to the hospital, the nurse's couldn't get the IV in, so the professional had to come in. She got it in, and by that time, I was numb to it all. Too much pain and terror for little 13-year-old me to handle. They took blood, and I was put into a room. For an entire week. My classmates (appearantly) started a rumor that I had swine flu. Grrr. Anyways, I was told I had ITP, a blood disorder that suddenly appears in someone when their platelets start disappearing. Soon after that week of pure torture, I was sent home with steroids to help my problem. One problem. They didn't work. I had to start receiving chemo. The first one was ten hours long. That didn't work. Another treatment. Still didn't work. Then they decided to give me surgery. Here's the catch. It was on my 14th birthday. When I got out, I was all things but happy. Horrified, terrified, scared sick. One reason I was terrified was that, last year, I had a nightmare that had the exact events of the surgery. Same voices, feelings, music and all. Soon I had to take care of a darn PICC line and get blood tests weekly, like the last two to three months.

December 23, 2010, I had to stay in the hospital for another night, another treatment that took longer than expected. Let me say that going to the bathroom is difficult with a buddy (IV pump) attatched to your arm. For another month, I was forced to take chemo regularly. By then, four months have passed since I was first rushed to the emergency room.

This last one worked. And you know who I really had to lean on all those six months of illness? God. I had to trust Him that I wasn't going to die, that I wasn't going to live a miserable life with ITP. On my outter shell, I looked fine, but this last illness has torn my heart apart. Emotionally and spiritually, I was beginning to fail. I have only been discharged for about less than a month or so now, but I am feeling worse thatn ever in my entire life.

I hope God can be my tower for as long as I live.

Thank you for reading this,
Sapph

God bless you...I`m glad you`re okay now though it sounds like torture...

although i don't understand the pain completely i know what your talking about. my sister has had ITP for 11 years now. she was seven when this all started. she was in pain and they made her take all these pills. one pill even messed up how her body took food she used to be really skinny when she was little, but once they gave her those pills she has been over weight for years and has had to fight that off as well. she was not aloud to do gym in school. they were afraid that if she got hit in the head with a ball or some one else the doctors said her brain could break open and she would bleed to death. she is now going to college this fall and her blood count is doing rather well. it will get better for you as it did her. god will take care of you as he did my sister. she believed in god to help her and now she does have to be so careful as she used to. my sisters name is felicity. she is going to japan to be a history teacher and help japan find there way back to christ. gis has really blessed her and he will you as well.

~Des~