Thanks for being so candid. Yes it’s good to see the humor in what happens to us, but yikes! I winced in empathy more than once and sighed in relief when George finally showed up. This coming from someone who’s maybe suffered less so far, but is in a similar boat, maybe earlier on in my journey, though no two cases are the same. I’m hoping and praying for mutual miracles.
Hang in there Karen and keep us updated when you can. After following blogs and podcasts that ended abruptly, I feel bad when I can’t post regularly, even in the hospital, thinking people might start to worry, or unsubscribe 😢and though it feels like a mission keeping me going, I have to put my well-being first. Sometimes it’s just too hard to write.
Oh and don’t get me started on the pain scale. It’s so arbitrary. One doctor in a hospital explained to me, very matter of factly, that if I wanted my next dose I just needed to say six or higher or maybe it was seven. Huh, good to know.
Yes, I think some are put off by my irreverent sense of humor, especially if they’re struggling with similar circumstances. However, this is how I cope. As long as I can find some humor, no matter how small, it encourages me that I’m not dead yet! This was the most difficult chapter so far. It took months mulling it over before I could put the words on the page.
I appreciate you reading and commenting. No one fights alone!
Thank you for this valuable PSA. If I go to the ER and I;m suffering, when they ask what level my pain is, I'm saying Level 11. If that doesn't get results, I'll start screaming.
Thanks for being so candid. Yes it’s good to see the humor in what happens to us, but yikes! I winced in empathy more than once and sighed in relief when George finally showed up. This coming from someone who’s maybe suffered less so far, but is in a similar boat, maybe earlier on in my journey, though no two cases are the same. I’m hoping and praying for mutual miracles.
Hang in there Karen and keep us updated when you can. After following blogs and podcasts that ended abruptly, I feel bad when I can’t post regularly, even in the hospital, thinking people might start to worry, or unsubscribe 😢and though it feels like a mission keeping me going, I have to put my well-being first. Sometimes it’s just too hard to write.
Oh and don’t get me started on the pain scale. It’s so arbitrary. One doctor in a hospital explained to me, very matter of factly, that if I wanted my next dose I just needed to say six or higher or maybe it was seven. Huh, good to know.
Yes, I think some are put off by my irreverent sense of humor, especially if they’re struggling with similar circumstances. However, this is how I cope. As long as I can find some humor, no matter how small, it encourages me that I’m not dead yet! This was the most difficult chapter so far. It took months mulling it over before I could put the words on the page.
I appreciate you reading and commenting. No one fights alone!
Thank you for this valuable PSA. If I go to the ER and I;m suffering, when they ask what level my pain is, I'm saying Level 11. If that doesn't get results, I'll start screaming.
Yep. Never ever will I downplay the pain again.
Reading this segment was agony. I don’t know how you stay so strong!
The worst episode yet... but you're still here and posting, so I'm hopeful you'll continue to do so. And, thank you George!
He’s the boyfriend you hate to love. However, happy he is there when necessary.
Oh, Karen I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all this. Hugs to you, and Larry!
Sending eons of positive thoughts and prayers your way! You are so brave. You keep beating it (the ugly C)….keep on keeping on! ❤️
Thanks! That’s the plan.