It’s two in the morning. A hot tumbler of peppermint tea sits to the side of my computer. In a sleepy stupor, I watch mesmerized, as the steam dissipates into the chilly morning air. I am hoping that my first sip will help to soothe “what-ails-me.” No answers to chronic pain keep me awake. I pray. I struggle. I sort out all I have done to find answers. I take another long, hard look at the answers I do have. Yet, in all this, the real answer alludes me and doctors alike. So, it is mornings like this that I find myself writing, praying, thinking of other chronic-pain-suffers, who also…