|
|||
|
|||
By Judy Pittman
A transplant is what they said I would need
to cure myself of this horrid disease.
PBC they called it by name
I thought they all had just gone insane.
You're all crazy, as crazy as could be
for I knew this could not be happening to me.
But yes it was true and try as I may
I knew that this would not go away.
Without it they said I would die
and night after night I'd lay there and cry.
I felt so weak and helpless to see
my once healthy body, betraying me.
I hid in my closet and buried my head
and thought of what the Dr. had said.
We'll watch your labs and wait and see
Oh Lord, why is this happening to me.
You'll go on a list with lots of names
with other people that have the same thing.
Be patient and stay close to the phone
and always make sure that you're never alone.
Denial, that's where I wanted to be,
I am so scared; God Please help me.
Night after night I waited and prayed
that God would not take my life away.
I have a family, I don't want to leave.
But somehow I knew I had to find peace.
"Join a support group", my daughter had said.
I laughed at her and just shook my head.
"I found a group." she said with a smile.
"The PBCers , just try it awhile."
I thank the Lord, day after day,
for sending this wonderful group my way.
They laugh and cry and talk to you
for they know exactly what you are going through.
Once I thought I was all alone.
But they proved to me that I was wrong.
The day finally came when the telephone rang
I jumped up and down and wanted to sing.
Someone had died to give me life!
He had paid the ultimate price.
I thank God everyday for answering my prayers a
nd the PBCers, who were always there.
They pick you up when you are down.
Greater friends cannot be found.
Thanks again from the bottom of my heart
and with this I'll depart.
