I don’t believe in you. But I believe in the right for others to believe in you. But I don’t. Believe in you.
My wife and daughter do, however, believe in you. So, for their sake, I’m hoping I’m wrong and you do exist. I want happiness for them more than anything else I can think of. So, shoot a lighting bolt down from an empty sky and turn me to dust. And for them – protect, embrace, hug.
When I realized what this disease was about, and the lives and suffering it has caused, I knew I could not believe in a god that created cystic fibrosis.
I must have done something wrong in a previous life. I understand.
I am lucky. I understand.
I have everything I need. I understand.
I am so close to the perfect life. I understand the asterisk.
What I don’t understand is how you could design a disease that harms children. That takes them away from their parents. That makes them suffer so much. You are no god of mine.
You owe us a cure, or a remedy. A lifespan “increaser.” A stress and exacerbation reducer. And you owe it to us now. I have a feeling I won’t be on the list for it after this blog post, but I can live with your decision, or maybe I won’t. But if you give it to everyone else, good.
I suggest you send a spark to a scientist or doctor or mother or father or brother or sister, or anyone who will take that spark and put in a pill or nebulizer and make magic happen. Magic, magic, magic – it’s the least you can do.
If I read another blog post where an innocent baby, child or young adult has spent a night in the hospital because of this disease, I’m going to transform into a Phoenix and scorch the heavens until they are clean of anyone at your dinner table who thought CF was a good idea. It wasn’t. It’s not. Take it back.
It’s your turn to make it right for those still here. It’s too late to help the others. You’ll have to answer to them in person one day. And I hope you have a good excuse. You’re going to need it.
Please protect those who fight this disease, and the ones who love them. They demonstrate true courage and bravery every minute of every day, and never make the papers with “Hero” next to their names. They should. I hope you have a good reward for them in the end.
I expect mine will be a pile of coal, a shovel, and a furnace.