I Was Sick for Many Years, Moving From Hospital to Hospital, Swallowing Medicine Every Day, Spending All My Savings, and Watching My Family Lose Hope in Me
For many years, sickness was my life. I woke up sick, slept sick, and lived sick. Hospitals became my second home. Doctors knew me by name. My body was tired, my mind was exhausted, and my heart was slowly giving up. Every morning started with medicine, and every night ended with pain.
At first, we believed it was something small. The doctors said it would pass. I followed every instruction. I swallowed medicine every day, sometimes more than five times a day. When one treatment failed, they tried another. When one hospital could not help, we moved to the next. Hope kept us going — but only for a while.
Years passed, and nothing changed.
Instead, my condition became worse. My strength disappeared. I could no longer work properly. I depended on my family for almost everything. Hospital bills piled up. We sold household items. Then we sold land. Then savings disappeared. I watched my family struggle because of me, and that pain hurt more than the sickness itself.
My children began to look at me with fear instead of confidence. My spouse tried to be strong, but I could see the tiredness in their eyes. Conversations in the house changed. Plans stopped. Laughter reduced. Slowly, hope faded from everyone’s heart — including mine.
