Bones Chill

This place is too familiar. It used to be the children's hospital. A place I spent far too much of my childhood in. Then it became  a hospital clinic. I set up offices here and transitioned doctors to this location before I moved away. And now I sit in a room that is new to me, a place I have never really sat but it feels too much the same as well as creating a sense of mistake. I shouldn't be here. I am too healthy. I drove myself here. I work full time. I am not sick enough to need to sit in a chronic pain clinic. I am fine. How did I end up here? 

Sometimes it feels like it's in my head. Lie the pain doesn't exist. And then in my worst moments when I am crying on the floor just praying for relief I remember it is real. It isn't constant. It doesn't control my life. But it is real. I am here. Looking for answers that may not exist. Looking for hope that if I make changes that I will still survive. 

The familiarity is becoming bone chilling. Or perhaps it is just drafty. Either way I am becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I came early and am praying it doesn't start late. I just want to get this over with. Get back to work. Move on with my day. 

I struggle to acknowledge my reality when faced with it. To accept the truth about pain and children and my future. Part of my soul just wants to believe if I just ignore this it will be fine. That the pinball be bearable and that offspring will come in the natural sense without a year or agony. I just want to believe in something else because sometimes this truth is too cutting. Maybe I was meant to find a fulfilling job so the other gaps wouldn't hurt so much. Or maybe I am borrowing trouble.