I don’t like where my life is going. There is very little about my life I like. THIS! is what physical illness, daily physical assault will do to you. There is no talking oneself out of it. There is only hanging on, continuing to fight the good fight and praying through one’s teeth with clenched fist determination–as much as you can muster through mountains of extreme fatigue and exhaustion–that that miracle of a completely new, a completely different, a completely better life will be yours as soon as possible.


It’s good that I can’t cry. If I could cry, I’d drain all the fluid from my body.


Friday October 10, 2014: When I feel support and cooperation—and most of all CARING—from someone, I will go to the ends of the earth for them.