Do You Believe In God?

The gentlemanly aid asked me. I hesitated before I answered. Not because I needed to think about the answer, but more because of the audacity of the question. Hasn't everything I have done thus far proven my belief in God? Do I have to walk around with my Bible in hand to prove my belief in God?

"Of course."

I said annoyed, rubbing the tears out of my eyes. I haven't slept. I haven't showered. I smell like sweat and Jason's piss. My hair is knotted and disheveled from all the times Jason grabbed me.

He has been agitated since he got here and I tried desperately to get us out of here and back in rehab before he had an episode but nothing I did worked.

Cursed out security for coming by in an attempt to manhandle my son. Jason sent one nurse home with a mild concussion. Yanked my hair and punched me.

Jason has been in rare form.

I have done a lot of things these past few months I never thought I would do. The nightmares are abundant and I am sometimes grateful for the insomnia.

I pushed back Jason's trach into the hole in his throat because he decanulated himself. He pulled out his trach in its entirety and I, standing there and wrestling with him had to push it back into the hole in his throat.

All this because a perfect storm of insurance bullshit, lazy ass admissions people and newly learning residents all suck at their jobs and I have to pay for it.

Traumatic re-intubation. Jason is bleeding again.

Supposedly God is not supposed to give me more than I can handle.

Can someone please let him know I had enough?