I'm beginning to quite enjoy this whole "I'm stuffed" thing. All these years of, "Oh, no, I'm fine" and valiantly, though largely invisibly, struggling on have come to an end.
People, bless them, offer to carry groceries etc. The house cleaner is doing twice as much since she saw the Copaxone syringes.
I know we all want to keep defying the truth (I do, too) but bugger it, I need some help, and it's been there.
People, bless them, offer to carry groceries etc. The house cleaner is doing twice as much since she saw the Copaxone syringes.
I know we all want to keep defying the truth (I do, too) but bugger it, I need some help, and it's been there.
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