SICKNESS 3'?m1f Monologue: pain, testing, spiritual healing

(scene: six chairs side-by-side facing audience, one magazine)

(enters backward)

I'm really sick. Can't I see him right away?

Alright. I'll sit and wait.

(sits, picks up magazine, pages)

(to audience)

I hate going to the doctor! Even when you have an appointment,
you have to wait... and wait... and wait...


About the only thing that's good in the doctor's office is the

(offers magazine to audience, sneezes into magazine, cringes,
shudders, closes magazine as if it's a radioactive hazard, drops
magazine on chair, moves to next chair)

On the other hand, maybe not even the magazines are all that
attractive. But the magazines are a treat compared with the
other things in the doctor's office.

The first thing they do when they call your name is to make you
step on a scale and to remind you how much weight you've gained
since your last visit. They strip you bare and embarrass you,
they poke you, they prod you, they squeeze you. They ask you all
these embarrassing questions about things you would never
discuss in public. They act like it's your own fault you got
sick. Then, of course, they poke holes in your skin and draw
blood. And they do all that BEFORE they find anything wrong with

After you go through all the pain and embarrassment, sometimes
they tell you (mimics) "there's nothing we can do. The disease
just has to run its course."

But if they do have a treatment for your illness, then, of
course, there's more pain. They poke holes in your skin to give
you an  injection... or two... (holds arm in pain) that is, if
your lucky. Sometimes the injection requires a larger muscle. I
don't even want to think about the pain and embarrassment of
that! (holds bottom)

Sometimes the cure involves pain of surgery, where the pain of
recovery is even worse than the pain of the disease.

So, you see why I always put off coming to the doctors office
until I'm so miserable that I can't stand it anymore.

Now, why am I telling you all this? Because, for me, spiritual
healing is just like a visit to the doctor's office.

I wait until the pain is absolutely unbearable before I admit I
need healing. Then, once I admit I need help, it seems like God
takes forever to deal with it. Once I deal with it, He asks me
embarrassing questions that I would never talk about in public.
I have to poke around in painful places and painful memories and
all I get for the pain is a diagnosis.

And after all the pain and embarrassment of diagnosis, sometimes
God tells me the sickness just has to run its course. Sometimes
the cure takes days, weeks, even months. Sometimes God even
tells me that I'll have to live with the pain for the rest of my

Sometimes surgery is required, and sometimes the surgery leaves
a deformity or a handicap. Sometimes the pain of the cure is
worse than the pain of the illness.

But once I've experience the pain of the cure, I tell myself,
I'll never let myself go through that again. Yeah, right.

(looks offstage, points to self)


(stands, points to exit, exiting)

Well, that's me. The pain begins. But that's what it takes to
start the healing.

�2013 Bob Snook. Conditions for use:
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