I'll probably never send this letter to you now that I've cut off all contact, but I need to write down my thoughts. We are still getting used to your absence. It is much more difficult than we anticipated. Stomach is melancholy, often times refusing food but at other times demanding food, only to return it. Liver is very confused. Without you there to regulate bile production, Liver is lost regarding how much to make. Erring on the side of too much upsets Stomach more than too little. Then there's Pancreas. It just couldn't handle the abuse. Pancreas is still angry but is also grieving more than the others. I think it may never operate at full capacity again.
It will get better eventually. Sometimes it's hard to think of that when we're curled up in bed. Tylenol, pepto bismol, and small bites from the b.r.a.t. diet keep us going. The moments I can actually fall asleep are a welcome relief from all the angst and drama. It won't last forever. Life will resume, though it will be a new normal. So I raise a glass of broth to better days ahead.