Wishing I could tell you a miracle cure for that–though I would really prefer to be able to cure it all.
Perhaps it’s an incentive to write. I hope the letters for the girls are going well. I tried to ask Jacy what she thought you should write, but she’s a little young for the concept.
Alex! That’s a doctor question? This whole thing so totally sucks. At least we can still type to each other, which is all we’ve ever done, and sure, if your doctors say they don’t know why talking is so hard I will search around for an answer for you. Are you still on dialysis?
Any improvement? Any explanation?
I’m thinking pleasantly of your comment during my visit that you felt it was your right to monopolize the conversation. I very much enjoyed listening to you.
Hoping today is a better day.
Love and hugs, (Hope you don’t mind my borrowing that, Jeremiah)
Stephanie
Are you taking in enough oxygen? I hope the painful speech doesn’t last for too long, and is quickly resolved so you can have long talks with people again.
You don’t know me. I randomly came across your blog around November. I actually don’t remember how (I think it involved facebook somehow). Since then I’ve been checking in for updates. I just wanted to let you know that, reading your blog, you’ve touched me, a complete stranger. I wish you all the best for your remaining time.
In a strange, different sort of way it is also very hard to type. Like I have just pushed through a wall a molasses. Not from pain or sickness but some kind of, “paralysis of the will” and fear.
But I type, cause you should see that every one of us is sitting in your corner, with love, holding on.
I wish I had something more helpful, more useful, more meaningful to offer. But knowing where things are right now….do any of us ever know what is going on, ever?
Wishing I could tell you a miracle cure for that–though I would really prefer to be able to cure it all.
Perhaps it’s an incentive to write. I hope the letters for the girls are going well. I tried to ask Jacy what she thought you should write, but she’s a little young for the concept.
Hugs,
Stephanie
No idea, Goat
Is breathing hard?
Alex! That’s a doctor question? This whole thing so totally sucks. At least we can still type to each other, which is all we’ve ever done, and sure, if your doctors say they don’t know why talking is so hard I will search around for an answer for you. Are you still on dialysis?
Just stop trying to say the line requiring one to know all known words. I mean that would be exhausting even for me!
Seriously, though, I hope things are being a little easier today.
Love and hugs,
Jeremiah
Any improvement? Any explanation?
I’m thinking pleasantly of your comment during my visit that you felt it was your right to monopolize the conversation. I very much enjoyed listening to you.
Hoping today is a better day.
Love and hugs, (Hope you don’t mind my borrowing that, Jeremiah)
Stephanie
Are you taking in enough oxygen? I hope the painful speech doesn’t last for too long, and is quickly resolved so you can have long talks with people again.
Hey man,
You don’t know me. I randomly came across your blog around November. I actually don’t remember how (I think it involved facebook somehow). Since then I’ve been checking in for updates. I just wanted to let you know that, reading your blog, you’ve touched me, a complete stranger. I wish you all the best for your remaining time.
John
In a strange, different sort of way it is also very hard to type. Like I have just pushed through a wall a molasses. Not from pain or sickness but some kind of, “paralysis of the will” and fear.
But I type, cause you should see that every one of us is sitting in your corner, with love, holding on.
I wish I had something more helpful, more useful, more meaningful to offer. But knowing where things are right now….do any of us ever know what is going on, ever?