"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Year: 2015 (Page 1 of 4)

Saying Goodbye To My Gallbladder

This is going to be one of those posts that I wish I had access to during some critical decision making times over this past year. I did more Google searching about this topic than almost anything else I have ever researched in regards to my health and when it came to personal experience stories, there wasn’t much to choose from.

So this is my little contribution to the world today in the hopes that it can help someone else who may also travel down this particular path. If you’re not interested in a good gallbladder story, no worries, I will get around to writing something different soon.

This story begins in February 2014. I was working at a church function one evening when all of a sudden I began to have sharp pain from the upper middle of my abdomen radiating to my right side. It was a pain I had never experienced before. I ignored the pain as my husband and I had Valentine’s Day dinner plans we were looking forward to. About an hour later, we were in the car on our way to dinner and the attack was so bad, I thought I was having a heart attack. I asked him to pull into a fire station because I honestly thought I wasn’t going to make it to an emergency room. That resulted in an ambulance ride to the hospital where I was told maybe I had gastritis and to follow-up with my gastroenterologist (GI). My blood work was fine, as was my heart. And nobody bothered to do an ultrasound or any other scan. Within a few hours, the pain subsided. Within 48 hours, the pain was pretty much gone.

I saw the GI doctor who was following me for other autoimmune related GI issues. I had an abdominal ultrasound done a few months before because it was discovered in 2008, during a scan for something else, that I had a cyst on my gallbladder, so I was getting ultrasounds every six months just as a safety precaution to make sure the “cyst” wasn’t growing.

All was well until around May 2015. I started to notice that I was getting fuller quicker when I ate and my bra and pants seemed tighter, even though I was losing weight. I also noticed that I would get that mid-upper abdominal pain (also called epigastric pain) once in a while, sometimes after I ate and sometimes randomly. I wasn’t overly concerned about it because as an autoimmune patient, there is always something wacky going on in my body. Some things end up a big deal and some just end up going away by themselves. However by June, I decided it was worth a call to my gynecologist. I was forty-four years old and the same exact age as my mom when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

For those of you who don’t know, ovarian cancer is known as a silent killer because the initial symptoms are so vague and includes symptoms such as bloating and feeling full quickly while eating. I went in for an exam and had a pelvic ultrasound which showed that everything in that arena looked good. Whew!

By July though, I was feeling worse and experiencing issues with nausea for the first time. I made another appointment with my GI doctor. A few days later I had lunch and got that epigastric pain that was more intense than it had been. It was right after eating a salad with grilled chicken and some salad dressing. My husband and I had plans to meet friends for an evening out so I sucked it up and went.

I was feeling a little better by the time we got to the concert and proceeded to eat a cheeseburger with a side salad and rice. Within fifteen minutes I was in the bathroom vomiting and I honestly don’t remember too many times in my life where I’ve been in that much pain. Same pain, epigastric and radiating to my right side, under my ribs. I STILL stayed at the concert, however after throwing up again, I asked my husband to take me to the emergency room. By the time we drove the ten minutes there, the pain was out of control and extended all the way around my right side into my back.

In the emergency room, where I honestly thought I was going to die from this pain, I was given nausea medicine and several doses of narcotic pain medication, which helped tremendously. The attending doctor thought I was having gallbladder attacks and scheduled me for an abdominal ultrasound the next morning. I was given prescriptions for pain and nausea medicine, told to call my GI doctor for an appointment ASAP, and sent home.

And that’s when the fun really began (note sarcastic tone here!)

I just never bounced back. I had the ultrasound, which was negative and saw the doctor. He thought it was either a stomach issue or my gallbladder. To me the gallbladder seemed more like the culprit because 1. I’m a nurse and 2. I had lost a lot of weight, which can precipitate a problem with the gallbladder and 3. I had an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation, and that includes in the gallbladder. Meanwhile, I revamped my diet even more to cut out as much fat as I could in case it was my gallbladder.

So the doctor sent me for a HIDA scan. A HIDA scan is a nuclear medicine study that evaluates how well, or not well, your gallbladder is functioning. I thought for sure that this scan would tell us either way if the problem was gallbladder related or not.

Not.

Despite the fact that I felt significantly more pain during the test, which apparently can be an indicator of gallbladder troubles, my scan came back inconclusive. Typically, the ejection fraction of the gallbladder is considered normal it it is 35% or greater. Mine was 32%. Based on that, the doctor decided that the issue was not my gallbladder. He offered me two options: to do an endoscopy which would look at my stomach or see a surgeon to get his opinion on the matter.

Well, if someone tells you that it’s not your gallbladder, to me the next logical step would be to check the stomach, especially since some of the pain was in that region. So I checked myself into the hospital, got sedated, and had an upper endoscopy done. The results were normal.

A few days later I was starting to feel better, only to have that abruptly change for me by the following week. I had nausea, pain under my right ribs, pain in my mid-upper back and stomach area, my pants and bra didn’t fit, and I felt pretty unwell in general. Eating was becoming more and more of an issue as oftentimes I would feel sicker after eating. I called the doctor back. He told me he didn’t know where to go from here. Since people with Sjögren’s syndrome can have a stomach motility disorder called gastroparesis, I asked him about that. He didn’t think that was likely, but really had nothing else to offer me so I was scheduled for a gastric emptying study.

The results were normal.

He told me this at my follow-up appointment and then, all of a sudden, told me he thought the issue was my gallbladder. Like, out of the blue, despite no new information since the previous appointment where he told me it WASN’T my gallbladder.

OK, so this is where we are going to take a brief pause in the story. At this point, I knew I was in a mess and to be honest, my trust level in my GI doctor had taken a nosedive. While I respect the fact that medicine is not always an exact science, I wasn’t confident enough in his diagnosis to put myself under the knife. I was so frustrated and I didn’t know where to turn. Also at this time, I was being interviewed for a new part-time job. For a year and a half I had been working as a substitute school nurse, but this was my chance at a part-time school nurse position, which would be the first time I have worked on a regular basis since going out on disability in 2008. Needless to say, it was a big deal.

I decided to go ahead with the interviewing. I also discussed the situation with my super fantastic rheumatologist who also thought it was likely to be a gallbladder problem. She referred me to a GI doctor in Boston and I also set up an appointment with a general surgeon for his opinion. While gallbladder surgery these days has become routine, it would be anything but routine for me. If I had surgery, I would have to stop one of my autoimmune medications (the one that actually helps some) and I would have to consult with a hematologist because of my history of blood clots in my leg and lungs.

I ended up getting the job. The day after I started the new job, the surgeon told me he wanted to remove my gallbladder, like now. I was so upset. I felt like we’d been screwing around (for lack of a better term) all summer with this issue and now that I had this great opportunity, I felt stuck. What do I do? September and October at a new school is the absolute worst time to be out of work. So, I decided to tentatively schedule the surgery for my Thanksgiving break and meanwhile get a third opinion in Boston. I went to Boston and saw the new GI doc. He was great. He understood the dilemma I was in, but felt like because of this mysterious gallbladder cyst and my symptoms, it was worth the risk of doing the surgery. I felt like with all the information I now had, surgery was the next right step.

I never made it to Thanksgiving week.

During my pre-op appointment in October with the surgeon, it was decided that it would be to my great benefit to have the surgery sooner. So I let me boss and co-worker know and I was able to take off two weeks for the surgery and recovery.

Best decision ever.

On November 4th a had a laparoscopic cholecystectomy done. Now, as a nurse who has taken care of KIDS who have had this surgery, I really thought that two weeks off from work was overkill and that I would be up and around within a day or two. However the surgeon advised the two weeks off so that’s what I did.

The surgery itself went really well. For those of you not familiar with laparoscopic surgery, it is supposed to be an easier way to remove the gallbladder, as opposed to doing a full open incision. Instead, they make four smaller incision in various spots in your abdomen and use a variety of instruments to fill the abdomen with carbon dioxide (so they can visualize all your organs and such) and disconnect and remove the gallbladder through one of the keyhole incisions.

I woke up from the anesthesia and the first thing I noticed was how much pain I was in. I was forewarned about the shoulder pain and bloating you can have post-op from the carbon dioxide gas they use to inflate your abdomen. They were not kidding! However, I also noticed that for the first time in about six months, I didn’t feel like I had a baseball stuck under my ribs. I had felt bad for so long that it felt weird to not have pain in that area. And all my back pain was gone as well.

In the recovery area I really struggled with nausea and pain and despite numerous different pain medications, they just could not get my pain under control. I had great relief from a Dilaudid injection which lasted all of about an hour, but the oxycodone they gave me didn’t touch me at all. However I was able to drink and eat a few bites of saltines without vomiting, after they gave me a nausea patch behind my ear.

Then next thing I know the doctor comes by and it’s obvious that my pain issues are not significant enough to anyone to keep me overnight. And at that point, I was so miserable, I just wanted to get home and figure out how to manage the pain myself. The doctor told me that they sent my gallbladder to pathology, but that he didn’t see any stones. However he said that part of my gallbladder WAS anatomically wrong. It was actually folded in half at the neck (Phrygian cap). He told us that while that usually doesn’t cause major issues, it may have been the cause of my issues.

So my husband brought me home. I am going to preface this part of the story by saying that I know a lot of people who have had gallbladder surgery, and most of them recovered quickly. One or two did not. But, don’t let my post-op experience freak you out. It was thought that a big part of the reason that my recovery was more difficult was because I waited so long to have the surgery.

My biggest recovery issue was pain. I had a lot of incisional pain at two of the sites, gas pain in the shoulder something fierce, and abdominal muscle pain like you can’t even imagine. Nobody warned me about that. It felt like someone had gone into my abdomen and beat the crap out of me. It was difficult for me to even turn in bed and for the first week. I could not sleep lying down. I was slower than most in going back to eating a regular diet. The pain medication I was on was the same one I use for bad arthritis flares and it did very little to help the surgical pain. I was also trying to take as little pain meds as possible so I could restart my autoimmune medication, which cannot be mixed with narcotics.

I also experienced a lot of diarrhea the first two weeks, which is very normal, and common. I was told that some people struggle with that for quite a while, like sometimes forever, but it resolved relatively quickly for me. And, I was just completely physically wiped out from the surgery itself. Then, I ended up experiencing a very bad case of depression during the first two weeks after surgery. Like, scary depression. I wished someone had warned me about that as well. I guess it can be a result of the trauma from surgery.

But you know what? It all got better. Two weeks after surgery, I worked one full day and then a half day and then I was on break again for Thanksgiving. I probably could have used that one week off as well, but I really didn’t want to miss another week of work and it was good for me to be back among the living!

Today, I am six weeks post-surgery and things are pretty good. I have had a few twinges of pain below where my gallbladder was. This is normal and I now haven’t had that for about two weeks. One of my incisions wasn’t healing properly and had to be reopened a little. That sucked, but now it is fully healed. I am eating well, but I have noticed that I seem to have a bit of an aversion to any foods that are fried or high in fat content. It’s almost like my body is trying to tell me to reject those foods. I also eat smaller portions, but none of this is bad. The pain  is gone and the nausea, vomiting, bloating and back pain is all gone. In general, I feel more well.

I did have to go on a course of steroids, which I’m on now, to quiet down my autoimmune stuff. I made it through the recovery with no blood clots, pneumonia, etc and I am very grateful for that. I am having an issue with continued right chest/shoulder pain, which I first noticed when waking up from surgery. The surgeon has told me several times that it cannot still be trapped gas and that maybe things just need time to settle down. It has improved some since starting the steroids, so I am going to try and wait it out for now.

I did get my pathology report back during my post-op visit. In addition to the folded gallbladder, that little cyst ended up being a solid tumor which thank god was benign, and I had significant cholecystitis (inflammed and diseased gallbladder). So the end result was that my gallbladder was the cause of all my woes. And now, I never have to deal with it again.

As you can see, this was a very trying journey for me and I think there are a lot of lessons to be learned from my experience. To start with,like I say all the time, you have to advocate for yourself as a patient. I knew something wasn’t right with my body and I also knew that it was something beyond my typical day-to-day health issues. And I kept at it until someone listened to me and then figured it out. Tests are not the end all-be all of diagnosing people. The fact that my gallbladder was even showing a 32% working capacity at the time of the HIDA scan is even amazing to me. And yes, I am now officially seeing a new GI doctor.

Just as importantly, everyone heals at a different pace. Keep your expectations to a minimum. Heal on your own timeline and not on the timeline of a friend or family member who may have breezed through the surgery. Make sure you have a good, solid pain control plan in place for after surgery and that you understand that no matter how common a surgery this may be, it is still a major assault on your body. While people say you can live without a gallbladder and that is true, it actually does serve the function of storing bile to break down fats. Once that’s gone, your body has to completely change the way it operates. And that takes time. Not forty-eight hours or even a week. We’re talking months for a complete recovery.

I would also suggest getting out of bed and walking right away and making sure you do that several times a day, no matter how bad you feel. I firmly believe that is why I didn’t have any major post-op complications. The day after surgery my husband took me to a walking trail and I walked for ten minutes. Three days later, my parents drove me to a craft fair for a few minutes and the following day I was at church. Was it super hard and painful? Yes! But also very necessary.

A good heating pad is essential for the gas pain the first week or two and I can’t stress enough the importance of using a pillow to splint your abdomen when you move around, cough, etc. Keep your diet light for the first few days. See if you can get someone to stay with you the night you come home from surgery and the entire following day. Most of all, be patient with yourself and know that it will get better, one day at a time.

Work and Chronic Illness

I posted a status update on my personal Facebook page this morning and I realized later on in the morning that I might gain some insight by posting it here as well.

I’ve been wanting to do some blog posts about work and chronic illness and I’ve wanted to write a little about my new job, so I guess this is as good a place to start as any.

As I’ve mentioned previously, I am in the homestretch of a very challenging and difficult month schedule wise. I am really hoping, that things will settle down a little for me once we go into November. I am definitely not getting the recovery time I physically need right now.

That got me to thinking this morning. I typically work two days a week for a total of fourteen hours. I also sometimes work a third day at my substitute school nurse job although lately that is rare. I am working three days this week. I honestly don’t understand how people with chronic illnesses like Sjogren’s (or any other illness) work full-time. I say that because all along that has been my ultimate goal: to get back to a full-time nursing job. I started with subbing, now I work part-time, and I was hoping full-time would be doable within the next year or so.

As of today, October 26, 2015, the full-time gig will not be happening.
No way.

Now I know I can’t see into the future but honestly, the part-time stuff is physically kicking my butt. I know the fact that I had to come off the low-dose naltrexone, which helps treat my Sjogren’s syndrome, isn’t helping at all, but the kind of pain levels and fatigue I have experienced since starting the new job is off the chart. Just for two days a week! Plus, all the other stuff.

That is why I am curious to see how things are going to play out as we head into winter. Right now, I am finding it incredibly difficult to manage the ridiculous amount of medical appointments I have with working regularly. Not to mention the daily care that is required for my eyes, mouth, and other symptoms. I’m still trying to figure out how to fit in healthy cooking and exercise because right now, both have gone to the wayside. So, I am reaching out to my readers.

While I think that I am an organized person, I will reaching out and looking for suggestions on how to manage a chronic illness with going back to work. Please feel free to add your suggestion(s) in the comments section below.

Low Dose Naltrexone

This is not going to be a lengthy entry. It’s one I wasn’t even planning on writing, but I wanted to share something with you all. I get e-mails from time to time from readers asking about how things are going for me with using low-dose naltrexone (LDN). My LDN posts also typically get the most hits.

I think LDN is one of those tricky treatment options where you don’t know exactly how much it is helping until you aren’t taking it. It is also tricky in regards to managing the side effect related insomnia that comes with it.
Well, it took me the better part of two years or so, but I was able to get around the sleep issue just by titrating my dose up slowly over the course of about eight months.
Then I came off it.
And it’s been hell.
Friggin’ nightmare actually.
Long story short, I had to stop taking it because I need gallbladder surgery. Because I started a new job the exact same week I was told this, I am putting the surgery off. They wanted me to have it in early September and it’s scheduled for Thanksgiving week. You have to be off LDN for 1-2 weeks before surgery and/or taking narcotic pain medications. My surgeon was concerned that if I urgently needed to get my gallbladder out sooner than November, he wouldn’t be able to do the surgery if I was on LDN. 
So I have been off it for about six weeks now and all I can say is…
I miss it.
Like, really bad.
I thought because I was still having pain while on it, it wasn’t working well. Not true because now, my pain levels are on a much worse level, like pre-diagnosis level. There are several other factors affecting my pain levels, but stopping the LDN was a huge contributing factor. I am trying some other pain control alternatives to get me through.
If you don’t know about LDN or are skeptical, please check it out. There are a ton of resources online. I have written several other blog entries about it and you can access those by going to the right side column of my blog and clicking the label for LDN or low-dose naltrexone. It is not a miracle cure for Sjögren’s, but it is definitely a vital component to my treatment plan.

And relatively speaking, it’s cheap.
And safe (just don’t take narcotics at the same time).
And completely underutilized because well, the health care industry cannot make a fortune off of it so they blow it off as a snake oil remedy.

Go check it out.

“What I Have Learned as a Rape Survivor”

I have a new blog post ready to go up and two more turning over and over in my mind, waiting for me to furiously type them out.

All three of them are going to wait.
I came across something this morning online that I would like to share with all of you.

Two years ago this week, two young women I know were raped. Two women who have never met, both between the ages of 18-23 at the time of the incidents. Both live in separate parts of the country. Their only connection is that in the thread of social connections we all have, I know both of them.

The details of their ordeals are not for me to know and/or discuss.But here’s what I can tell you:

1. 1 out of every 6 women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime.
2. In 2003, 9 out of 10 rape victims were women.
3. 80% of victims are under the age of 30.
4. 44% are under 18.
5. 29% are age 12-17.

This makes me stop and pause. I have not been the victim of a sexual assault. But how many people do I know have been?

I can think of 10 just off the top of my head. And that’s only people I know personally. It doesn’t count all the children and adults I have cared for as a professional nurse. That number is off the charts. It also doesn’t include the people in my life who have been victims and I don’t know about.

More stats:

1. Approximately 4 out of 5 assaults are committed by someone known to the victim.
2. 47% of rapists are a friend or acquaintance.

Rape is not just a stranger attacking you in a dark alley type of violent crime. It is happening everywhere: in our own homes, in college dorms, in the back seats of cars, in bars, at college parties,in churches,  Women and girls (and men/boys) are being raped by not only strangers, but by their husbands, their fathers, their brothers, boyfriends, girlfriends, uncles, and priests.A woman is raped the moment she says “no” or does not give her consent.

**Statistics taken from the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network**

Those are the statistics, but my real reason for writing this today is to share, with her permission, a blog post written by one of the survivors I mentioned above. A woman who has taken the worst moments of her life and transformed them into an essay depicting courage, strength, and hope. The essay speaks for itself. It’s only by bringing our hurt and pain from out of the shadows that we can then be a beacon for others who feel so alone. You can find Callie’s post by clicking on the link for her blog here:

What I Have Learned as a Rape Survivor

Making Life Work

So it’s about 4pm on a weeknight and I just finished cooking part of tonight’s dinner. And, that’s late for me. I’m usually done earlier than 4pm, depending on how much I am cooking.

I know, it’s weird.
And I am finally OK with that.

We don’t eat supper that early. Usually we eat anytime between 5-6:30pm. For me, the earlier the better, but my husband does have a regular full-time job and well, he works until 5pm, at least. So it is pretty common for me to pre-cook dinner and then just nuke it when we are ready to sit down and eat. Because the reality is, if it doesn’t get cooked early, there may be no supper. Except maybe cereal. Or take-out. And well, a healthy eating plan doesn’t involve much of either of those. I don’t know what people with chronic illnesses did before the invention of the microwave!

This is just one of the many accommodations I have had to figure out and accept since I realized that my energy levels are going to be unpredictable…like, for the rest of my life. Pre-Sjögren’s, I would have the typical mid-afternoon energy slump like everyone else, and then would bounce right back. But autoimmune disease redefines the meaning of the word fatigue. We are talking mind-numbing, body stopping, I can’t take another step or blink my eye kind of exhaustion. There is oftentimes no warning and when it hits, look out. For some of us, it’s a constant, pervasive kind of tiredness.

In the past, I would ignore the warning signals my body was attempting to give me. I was too busy trying to function as a person without an illness, in a busy world where chronic illness is usually not accepted or understood. In a world where the motto is “go, go, go”, no matter what the price to our bodies may be. Just keep caffeinating. Just keep doing. And then I would get frustrated that my body couldn’t keep up.

As the years go by, the fatigue issues has become more of an issue for me during the day. I started to notice that in the mornings, when many people with autoimmune illness are at their worst, I would be at my best. Maybe not always pain-wise, but definitely energy wise. I noticed a trend when I started working that there is a very specific time in the afternoon when I start to go downhill. When I sub (as a school nurse) at the high school, I have the most energy. Those hours are from 7:25am to 2pm. The elementary school is the most difficult for me and those hours are 8:30am to 3:15pm. I notice that I can predict a significant increase in my fatigue beginning around 2pm.

That is the first shift in energy levels. The second starts sometime after 5pm. It’s all downhill from there and by 6pm, I render myself pretty useless. I am typically in my pajamas by suppertime. Nighttime activities have become harder and harder. I recently dropped out of a twelve week choir class because the 7-9pm weekly class was killing me. Evening church activities, conference calls, and meetings, for various things, have become something that I have had to rethink in terms of priorities. Up until very recently, I continued to do these things, despite the obvious detriment to my overall health.

There are some occasions where I can push past the fatigue to get myself to an evening event and even enjoy myself. I have come to realize that this is usually during an event I am really excited about such as a friend’s party, concert I’ve really wanting to see, etc. After a little research on that, I found out that the chemical hormones that are released when someone is excited about doing something actually have a positive influence on a person’s physical well being. Honestly, I think that is the only reason I can get myself to an 8pm concert! However the ramifications of those evening events are high, sometimes too high.

I have recently decided that for now, I am going to start scheduling my appointments, friend dates, etc.around what my body is telling me, as often as possible Nowadays, I wake up and am ready to roll between 6:30-7am and by 2-3pm, I’m done. Instead of pushing past those limits every single day, I’ve started to respect them. The problem is, the rest of the world doesn’t always respect them or understand. Let’s face it, in this country anyways, most social functions take place after 5pm and on weekends.

My husband and I go to a lot of concerts together and honestly, sometimes it is incredibly difficult. It will say that the concert start time is 7 or 8pm when in reality, the main act doesn’t get rolling until 9pm. We recently went to an afternoon concert that started at 2pm and it was truly one of the best times I have had with him and some other friends of ours. I was alert and able to concentrate. I wasn’t so focused on how exhausted I was and my pain levels was manageable. I had a lot of fun. Same thing for a recent afternoon Red Sox game, which started in the afternoon instead of the evening. A few hours difference can make or break a day for me and just as importantly, make or break the rest of the week.The running joke between my husband and I is that whenever there is an evening social event, no matter what time it starts, we have to be out of the house by 4pm so I can keep some momentum going!

Another example is from this morning. I had a close friend over for a visit. She’s an early riser as well and we were eating breakfast together and chatting at my house at 9am. I can actually remember everything she said to me because that mind numbing fatigue hadn’t set in yet.

I know there are going to be exceptions and I will occasionally have to make concessions. And,I don’t expect the world to completely function according to my illness needs. But that being said, I have recently realized that I also have the choice to say no. Last week, I think I used the word “no” more often than in the previous six months combined. But, that’s a topic for another post! The point is, I get to choose what is best for me. If it sometimes, or often, means missing out on things I would normally want to attend, then so be it. The right people will understand.

I recently said something to my husband about this. It was a Saturday night and we were home together watching TV. It was about 7pm and I couldn’t hold my head up any longer. So I asked him if he would go to bed early with me. I’m not usually sleeping at 7pm, but I am resting in bed. I felt bad because it was a Saturday night and that had been happening a lot lately. And I told him that…that I felt bad he doesn’t stay up late like he used to before we started dating, because he wants to spend time with me. His response was profound and basically he said that altering his lifestyle/routine to accommodate me was better than not being with me. Again, the right people will understand.

Since I’ve started listening to my body more and making adjustments, I have noticed that I am much more productive during that 6:30am-2pm time frame. Because I am rested. It’s not a lot of time to work with and once school starts in September, it will be even much less so. But, the house has been cleaner, I’m getting more errands done, and I am spending more time at the gym. I am more tuned in to people and I am remembering more of my conversations with other people.

Is this the way I would have chosen to live my life? No. I’d rather not have Sjögren’s at all. I’d rather live a life like I used to: sleeping eight hours a day and then being able to function throughout the remaining sixteen hours, without exception. But rather than being a victim, I’m working on figuring out what DOES work for me. You can do a lot of living in just seven hours a day. And honestly, many days, it’s even less than that. My days may not have a lot of quantity, but they most certainly have a lot of quality.

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