Why me, Lord? Why do I get sick?

Why couldn’t I have lived at a time before the invention of antibiotics? Why couldn’t I have lived in the 19^th century, where one of my heroes, Hudson Taylor, had had as many bacteriological infections as I do? Why don’t I get to be like Hudson Taylor and have to go to bed for weeks, or even months, waiting to see if my body will fight off the infection or it I will die from it? Why haven’t I had the experience of shaking so badly from a fever that my bed was rattling on the wooden floor?

Why, when my daughter had ear infection after ear infection when she was a toddler, did she get to take antibiotics? Why isn’t she deaf? How is it that she is still alive? Why couldn't I be like Hudson Taylor, who buried two small children and a wife on Chinese soil?

Why me, Lord? Why does my family have access to antibiotics?