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Eric A. Meyer
webdevelopment 73,231 followers
“On Writing”—why I keep doing it in the midst of everything that’s happening. wp.me/p2jgYa-Kd
“The Evening”—a time of joy and laughter, flashes of heartache, and strength and bravery and a few moments of peace. wp.me/p2jgYa-K7
“The Truth”. A record of our first steps into the hardest passage. wp.me/p2jgYa-K3
Sometimes I think I’ve reached a measure of acceptance, and then I realize it’s just denial in another guise.
I can’t comprehend having come to the place where I’m arranging hospice for my child. I try, and I just can’t.
Met with hospice services today. Not because we need them now, but in order to have them whenever we do need them.
Out of all my bookmarklets, my favorite is still “ShowPass”, which converts all password fields on a page to text fields.
We told the girls today that there may be no special medicine coming. That we’re still looking, but we may not be able to find any.
The girls are singing Katy Perry’s “Brave” downstairs. Hitting the high notes, laughing.
If anyone knows anyone who can tell us the status of that study, let me know. We can at least add ourselves to the list, if there is one.
If only the Standford CD-47 study (stemcell.stanford.edu/CD47/) was open and we were a part of it. We have almost no treatment options left.
I feel like I’m standing in the path of a tidal wave shot at the highest frame rate in human history and completely out of focus.
I keep wanting to ask our adoption agency how often they’ve had this kind of thing happen, but I’m afraid they’ll say we’re the first.
…and the boy just rode his pushcart down the back steps. On purpose, even. So we’re back on concussion-symptom watch!
Breaking geodes in the driveway.
We’ve lost our best options, and almost all hope of a lengthy treatment period. wp.me/p2jgYa-JV
I can’t even express how lucky I am to have you here, caring. Another piece of fortune in the midst of misfortune. Thank you.
Thank you, everyone who replies to my cancer tweets. I rarely reply, and I feel bad about that, but I appreciate every iota of support.
Very difficult day today. For a while, we thought we were entering the final stages. A lot of that spun out of our fears, but still.
“Remembering How to Fight Measles”, something horribly needless that we may soon need to do. nyti.ms/1o5mC0B
Last night, just before bed. “Do you want me to lock the back door?” “Why bother? The killer is already inside the house.”
The fact that I recognized the symptoms of an intracranial pressure spike is a tiny bit surreal for me. Hard-won knowledge, that.
The guy who brought us back from the ER waiting room recognized us on sight. That seems like a bad sign.
CT scan was clear. We’re staying a while for observation, with hopes of being discharged rather than having to stay overnight.