I want this to stop. I don’t want any more pain. I do not want to experience the pain I am already experiencing. I do not want to produce from my mouth and nose, anymore green vomit with egg whites. I want to be able to eat. I don’t want to have to have a green poo, if you can call it poo, on the hour every hour. I do not want to have ‘a good case of oral thrush’. I hate relying on the Angels for every little thing, which last night, included putting my bed sheets on me because I did not have the strength to do it myself. I want to be able to sleep properly. I don’t know why my skin has decided to turn a certain shade of grey, but I want it to be its normal colour. I want to be able to drink without feeling like the universe in my stomach is staging a coup. I want some energy. I really want all of this to stop and normality to return.
The thing is, it’s not going to stop, not immediately. And I have to deal with this. I am not wallowing and I am not crying. The beauty of this process, is it cannot be turned around. These feelings, and these experiences were determined last week, we just did not know how they were going to manifest themselves. We still don’t for certain. The fact that I cannot back out, means that even though I may feel weak and a scaredy cat, I am forced into a position where I have to be strong, because all this shit, literally, is going to happen anyway. This makes soldiers of everyone, regardless of whether they thought they had the strength to do it or not. Get through this and I’ll never look at somebody who complains of a cold in the same way again.
Clearly we have assistance from the troops, for me, this means going straight to the oramorph now in the constant event of pain, because nothing else will curb it. My doctor told me this morning that I have to stop trying to be brave. I would not say that trying to remain well mannered is brave. I think he was referring to the use of morphine and how long go I go without asking for further assistance (T13 déjà Vu). How bad is bad? Is this rock bottom? It looks like it. After my experience last night, which was worse than the night before, I have reconciled myself to the fact that rock bottom looks something like this, and needs several doses of oramorph, to make the future look rosy.
And so, from rock bottom, I wish you well.
EJBx
E.J. Bones 
One of the hardest things for a young , independent woman to do is to let others take care of her. In this case you have to give into it & accept the fact that now is the time & hopefully the only time where you will be waited on, spoiled & given into for everything. Accept it . It’s your privilege right now. Keeping you in my thoughts.
Checking in on you, letting you know that I am still holding you in the Light and now is the time to simply be cared for, attended to, holding on to the hope of your new cells and new body coming into being in the new few days. You are going to feel better and it’s closer with every day. Believe the medical team and know our caring for you, even at a distance, is sending you the angels needed to get you through this. Gentle hugs…