A Toddler of Fluid? Hospice Diary Note

A look at the real truth of living and sometimes laughing through hospice.

When I was in hospice, I kept a diary. It became my way to cope with fear, exhaustion, and sometimes even sarcasm.

Here’s one of those entries:

Heart cath may be done another time. Not sure till they see how I’m doing tomorrow. I need to lay flat without coughing. They had me try it, but within seconds I got the tickle and had to cough. The test takes an hour or two. For now, their focus is still getting the water off me. The doctor said, “I suspect you still have a small toddler to release.”  😳 LOL

When I wrote “LOL” after that, it wasn’t because I was laughing. It was pure sarcasm because who in their right mind wants to imagine carrying around a toddler made of fluid?!

But here’s the thing: writing it down helped me cope. Humor, even the dry kind, made the weight of hospice feel a little lighter. When your body feels like it’s betraying you, sometimes your words are the only place you still have control.

I wrote to make sense of what was happening. To turn medical jargon and scary updates into something my brain could handle. To remind myself that even though I was drowning on the inside, I still had a voice.

Why share this now?

Because hospice isn’t just a chapter from my past it’s part of why I speak out today. Back then, I didn’t know if I’d live long enough to see another sunrise, let alone write blogs, host a podcast, or mentor other patients. What I did know was the power of words. That diary entry was proof my voice still mattered, even when my body felt like it didn’t.

I share it now because patients need to hear the unpolished truth that coping can be messy, sarcastic, or even a little dark. We don’t have to put on a brave face 24/7. Humor, even dry humor, is still resilience.

I also share it because families, caregivers, and doctors sometimes forget how much weight patients carry between the scans, the IV drips, and the procedures that may or may not happen tomorrow. The medical story is one thing; the human story is another. Both deserve to be told.

And finally, I share it now because there’s someone out there maybe newly diagnosed, maybe in hospice themselves who feels like they’re carrying their own “toddler of fluid.” If that’s you, I want you to know: you’re not alone. Your words, your sarcasm, your voice matter. Writing them down might not cure you, but it can keep you tethered to yourself. And sometimes, that’s everything.

A note for caregivers and clinicians

Don’t underestimate the little ways patients cope. Sarcasm, humor, journaling, music, or even silence they’re survival tools. Ask about them. Honor them. Learn from them. They may not show up on a chart, but they can make all the difference in how a patient makes it through the day.

👉 If you’ve ever used humor to survive something heavy, I’d love to hear your story. What made the unbearable feel just a little lighter?

#HospiceSurvivor #PatientVoice #Heart2HeartTalk #PatientAdvocacy #SelfAdvocacy #ListenToPatients #HeartBridgeCollective #SurvivalStories #HumorForHealing #StrengthInTheStruggle