Notes of hope
From people who have been through it
Written for whoever is facing it now. Read one, then another. You are not the first, and you won’t be the last to come through.
“to whoever needs this: i was where you are in february. nobody at school had heard of it. today i made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. it comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. Checking my pulse all the time. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“When doctors say the scans are normal and you still hurt, it's easy to doubt yourself. Don't. Pain is real even when it doesn't show up on a screen. Find one person who believes you, and hold onto the good weeks. I still have bad ones, but I've learned to plan around them. You will too. And if you can, get a buddy. Someone who gets it without you having to explain.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are at the start of the year. Learning to use a wheelchair. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are two months ago. Pacing my day in spoons. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the summer. Heart rate jumping to 140 when I stand. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“When I was first diagnosed, I felt like my body had betrayed me. I was angry. I still am some days. But you learn to adapt. The pump, the hypos, the family comments. It is a lot. But you find your people. I found a diabetes nurse who listens. I found friends online who get it. You will too. Just keep going. And do not let anyone tell you what to eat at a wedding. You know your body.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in May. A previous loss making it worse. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold. God willing it gets easier.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in October. Scanxiety before every check. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are at the start of the year. Nobody asks how I am. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I was sure I'd never feel normal again. I was wrong. Someone told me to do one smlal thing a day. Some days it's just a shower. Keep going, even slowly.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Sleeping in the chair next to her hospital bed. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are around Easter. A wig I have not worn yet. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: cancelling plans for the third time was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the spring. A heart surgery at four months. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Hey. I know it feels like no one believes you. I’ve been there. Keep pushing for answers. It took me years to get diagnosed with POTS. Write down your symptoms, take someone with you to appointments. And it’s okay if all you do today is feed yourself and your dog. That counts. You’re not lazy. You’re sick. I still struggle, but I’ve found a few things that help. Don’t give up.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Planning my funeral. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last spring. Lupus flares that come with no warning. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are at the start of the year. Three rounds of IVF. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are four months ago. Sleeping in the chair next to her hospital bed. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them so so I'll just say what happened to me: the side effects of the nerve tablets was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok, not perfect so ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last week. Cold weather making it worse. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason. It doesn't, but you can get through it. I did, and I'm not especially strong so I had to stop googling so it made everything worse.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the spring. My HbA1c going up again. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Not sure if this makes sense. I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: lupus flares that come with no warning was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are back in the summer. Mum asking for her own mother every evening. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“You don't have to have it figrued out. I did not. I just did the next small thing, then the next one. That's all it was, for a long time.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are a few months back. Our son's leukaemia treatment, two years of it. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I remmeber reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: diagnosed last spring was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“Not sure if this makes sense. To whoever needs this: I was where you are back in the summer. Waiting four weeks for scan results. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. My blood pressure readings. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last year. Doing all the school runs alone now. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: a spreadsheet of medicines and times on the fridge was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“Please be gentle with yourself, I wasn't, and it made everything harder, I pace everything now so if I do a lot Monday, tuesday is a rest day, no arguing, and talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are three weeks ago. A nurse who knows his favourite dinosaur. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. Nobody asks how I am. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Hello friend. It feels like nobody believes what you're going through. You'll probably say you're fine some days because it's less trouble than explaining. That's alright. Try to find one person who'll listen, even if that takes a while. The stairs don't go anywhere, but you don't have to climb them by yourself. I'm still working this out too, but I'm around.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are a few months back. Hypos at night. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in October. The oncologist who talks to the screen not to me. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the summer. A heart attack in the car park at work. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Sorry, this got long. To whoever needs this: I was where you are last year. One pill a day. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Sorry if this is a lot. I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: my HbA1c going up again was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: fatigue after twenty minutes of anything was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: caught it in 2022 and never got back to normal was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“Dear friend, If you're just starting out with dementia care, I want to say this: feeling angry and sad is normal. It doesn't make you a bad person. The sundowning hours are the toughest, but each evening ends. When help comes, take it, even if it's just a small thing. And look after yourself, because you can't pour from an empty cup. I'm still learning that. You've got company in this. Hazez”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are at the start of the year. He cries now at adverts, which he never did. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are back in the summer so nobody at school had heard of it. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something, it comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Please be gentle with yourself and I wasn't, and it made everything harder so get a second opinion if it doesn't feel right and I did and it changed my treatment and and talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”
“Sorry if this is a lot. I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: explaining an invisible illness to my manager was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“I think I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: losing sight in one eye was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Writing letters for my kids. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are six weeks ago. She accuses me of stealing her purse. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are after the new year. Stents and the cardiac rehab class. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last month. Phased return to work that failed twice. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the spring. A diagnosis code that does not fit the forms. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in March. The specialist six hours away. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are two months ago. A heart surgery at four months. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them so so I'll just say what happened to me: cancelling plans for the third time was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok so not perfect and ok so you will be too, in your own time.”
“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in February. Steroids keeping me awake at 3am. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
“Sorry, this got long. To whoever needs this: I was where you are six weeks ago. POTS and fainting in the queue at the shop. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”
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