When Michael and I first met with my surgeon, he warned me that for “4-6 weeks” after surgery I would be “as tired, if not more,” than I was after chemo ended.
Nonsense, I thought. Nothing could possibly make me that tired again, barring another attack of chemical warfare.
Boy was I wrong.
Read More...(This post contains a picture of an internal organ…consider yourself warned.)
In general, I’m a fan of my internal organs remaining, well, internal. Our bodies are so complicated and extraordinary that if something is there it must have a purpose, otherwise it wouldn’t be there. Even if medical science does not yet understand what it is.
I know, I’ve heard the theories about our pinky toes slowly evolving out of the body (women’s shoe designers cannot wait for that moment I’m sure) or the uselessness of, say, the appendix. But then, after years and years of yanking the appendix out of our bodies with nary a second thought, it turns out that it might possibly be an incredibly useful storehouse for “good” bacteria and fires into business right when we need it most: during illness.
Read More...A few weeks ago, I was moaning about all of the horrible possibilities that could be the state of my health with my sister on the phone. On and on I went. And on and on. And on some more. When I finally finished, a little impressed that she’d let me go on so long, she paused before asking if I was done.
“Yessir! Thanks for listening.”
“I’m your sister, I will always listen to you while you’re in your pothole. But, just so you know, I wish for your sake that you would spend less time in your pothole.”
My pothole?
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