A Light-Hearted Dispatch from Hoppy, My Newly Named Hospital Bed

I've officially spent 8 days here: Wednesday. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Today is Thursday and I'm for another night.

If you remind me of how beautiful those days are, I will cut you, and you'll be reluctant to free me from anyplace, anytime.

This morning was interesting! I was going to get to go home, despite the nonstop PukeFest2014, but then my blood sugar tested at 545.

In layman's turns, my pancreas is Jack at the end of Titanic. Occasionally spurting out some signs of life, but mostly just frozen, half-dead and weighing me (here, I am Kate Winslet. Duh.) down. 

I've got no love for my pancreas. Float away, already!

So I'm here another night, having been tested, scanned, radiated and stuck more times than I can count. Oh wait yes I can it's SEVENTEEN. These baby hands may charm and freak you out, but they are shit when it comes to pushing IV drugs. DUMB BABY HANDS Y U SO SMALL?

My parents have been here regularly, cleaning me up when I puke, changing my lines and helping with everything because, you know..."I've been a nurse for 35 years!"

And she does help. And I'm grateful for her and Dad, who's constantly dropping in even though I am a cranky, drugged, sick, stinky millennial, tweeting my miseries into the great big Cloud of Embarassment. He's here, and so are Kristie and Greg, and many more friends and family have called, and wrote me and made me feel so much less alone. Sorry I won't let you visit, but I look rabid.

My team of specialists (basically a full football team) has figured out what's going on and though I don't care to specify at this time, I will admit to saying this. IT SUCKS. My body is an automated Berg-killing machine! Luckily, everything looks benign, but we must kick some gastric, pancreatic, neurological, psychological, rheumatologica ass before I attempt to strike out on my own again.

California will be there, unless it falls into the sea (sooorrrryyy) and I will be there soon. I am aiming for November. 

But more than that, I hope to be managed and healed and alive to see Sadie turn 2 in two weeks and 21 nineteen years from now. Baby's first lemon drop shots! Her realization that Auntie Kels is a cougar and she should run to another bar! I can't wait!

Kids, I don't live a day without pain. But that's not gonna stop me living. It's a big world. I've only just begun.

Thank you for the support and gifts and love. I am humbled and emboldened by each of you.

Love and drugs,

Your Kelly

PS: Many of you have asked how to help: fundraising for First Descents would be the ultimate gift. They are my cancer family and the best thing I have ever been a part of: Dotcom Fundraises for Important Cause

Thank you. I love you all madly.