illness

Prescribe, refer, repeat — that was the drill for several years. It wasn’t until I started to explore the impact of childhood adversity that I saw the big picture, and it began to make sense.

[CN: emetophobia] I look up at Hannah with bulging eyes and my hands covering my mouth. We have a bit of a shituation. “Han, I am so sorry."

REAL TALK — my body is going to keep changing for the rest of my life. If it's not weight gain, it will be aging. If not aging, it could be an illness. If not an illness, it could be any number of things that will cause inevitable change in which I will be required to learn to love the change.

[CN: emetophobia] I wish my son's gut could handle more than a few foods. I wish there were a magic Google function that could tell me and all of Echo's doctors how to manage this jerk of an allergy.

The body and face we have today is such a tenuous thing. The longer I live, the more strongly aware I am that there are no promises of health or wholeness. Beauty is fleeting, and does it matter anyway if your body suddenly ceases to work the way it "should"? Would I regret the days I spent peering at imperfections if suddenly my sight were gone?

“Congratulations, Joni. You have a UTI so bad my machine can't even read it.”

I like to give everything 110%, even my bacterial infections. I like to give everything 110%... except myself.

Is laughter the best medicine?

Once someone is out of the hospital that doesn't make them instantly well, it just makes them stable enough to go home.