Argh. I've felt a panic attack coming on all day, and I've successfully held it back until now, but somehow, it just broke through because I couldn't decide what kitchen shelving to buy. Even while panicking, I can tell that this is stupid. (There's a shelving unit from Ikea that I like, but I know I'd have trouble putting it together myself, because it's kind of big. Or I could get a few smaller ones. Or I could get a taller unit, but the taller ones are mostly too tall. And I can't really cook anything until I have some kind of shelves, because right now, most of my kitchen stuff is stacked on the counters and stove.)

Burrel says everything I want to!

I am so sorry, Epic. My mom lost her words too, so I know what that's like.

Oh, man, it's tough. I'm sorry.

I have many thoughts about your brother, but others here have said most of it already, and in nicer words than I would have used. He has his own journey to walk, and he is choosing to go it alone, but you don't have to go it alone too because you have your people. May you find the strength to get through this, and try to be kind to yourself as you do.

Yes, yes, and yes.

Many hugs.

Glad Miss Francesca Ruth is at home and that sj can return to carbs!

Hill, can't help with the panic attack. But usually there are people who will assemble stuff for you. You could ask Ikea if they could hook you up. Or maybe your U could hook you up with a student who wants to earn some cash. Or maybe your landlord can rec someone. Or Teppy might suggest someone.

Mr Peabody has been barking at something on the other side of the privacy fence behind me for three hours. I'm sure he's driving everyone else mad, but is apparently having no effect on the people directly behind me, or they'd come outside and shoo the possum or whatever it is. I suspect my yelling at him is more annoying than the barking. The incredible roving joint pain from one of the drugs has attacked my right knee and working my way up to the back of the yard was agony. I'm too weak to hustle him inside the way I did when I was well. I feel so helpless.

Oh Ginger. That sucks for all of you.

Ginger, I'm so sorry.

Ginger, that is terrible.

Ginger, that's not fair, and I wish there were something I could do.

I know you've had to face this too, Typo, but it's so hard to deal with not being able to do things I could a year ago. I feel like I'm greeting each day the way Dorothy Parker responded to a knock at the door: "What fresh hell is this?"

I'm always sorry to hear someone else going through it. And its not as though you don't have enough medical issues. Believe me, first hand experience does not make me less sympathetic, or keep me from wishing you less hurting.