A Life, UnTilted

Holy fuckin shit!

MA! Ma come outside! There’s a fuckin moose or a buffalo or some shit they’re fight-

*car beeps/yeets off screen*

Where the fuck are you goin!?

MA!

‘oly shit!

This is some fuckin national geographic shit MA CALL THE FUCKING COPS OR THE ASPCA!

THERE’S ANIMALS FIGHTIN IN THE FRONT LAWN!

“Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.”

“It reminded me of you.”

“No, no, it’s my treat.”

“Come here.  Let me fix it.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Have a good day at work.”

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Take my seat.”

“I saved a piece for you.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You can have half.”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I made your favourite.”

“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Watch your step.”

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel better.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“You can borrow mine.”

“You might like this.”

“It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Just because.”

“Look both ways.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Try some.”

“Drive safely.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“One more chapter.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“After you.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like your laugh.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I made this for you.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Is this okay?”

“I picked these for you.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“What do you want to watch?”

“You can go first.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have fun.”

“Sit down, I’ll get it.”

“I made reservations.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It brings out your eyes.”

“There is enough room for both of us.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Wow.”

“Happy birthday.”

“I’ll pick it up after work.”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“It’s two sugars, right?”

“I’ll help you study.”

“Stay over.”

“I did the dishes.”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

“I bought you a ticket.”

“You’re warm.”

“No reason.”

“I’ll meet you halfway.”

“Take mine.”

“We can share.”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“I want you to have this.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Do you want to come too?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Sweet dreams.”

“I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

“The key is under the mat.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re important too.”

“I saved you a seat.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I noticed.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I believe in you.”

“You can do it.”

“Good luck.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Be careful.”

  And…

Pain scale? More like pain in the booty. No two people seem to read it the same way, and chronic folks tend to downplay their pain.

So here’s an idea: when asked to rate your pain, provide a number to rate your distress levels in addition to your pain levels.

Some examples:

“I’m at a 5 on the pain scale, but my distress is basically a 1 because this is my usual.”

“I’m at a 3 on the pain scale, but my distress is a 7 because this is new pain and affects a part of my body that’s very important to my work.”

me: what have you done so far?

doc: nothing”

over a picture of a female doctor with brown hair in a bun and dressed in a lab coat with a stethoscope around her neck, showing a male patient with short brown hair wearing plaid a chart.

Wishbone was a PBS series about a terrier that assumed the role of literary characters like Frankenstein and Odysseus and dressed up.

—

Ken McKim - The Slow Death of Compassion for the Chronically Ill [x] (via bifurious-babe)

And the “inspiring” things they expect us to do (like running a marathon) are often more than they, with healthy bodies, will do.