Donna,

One of my favorite poems is the one by Emily Dickinson about hope:

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
and sings the song without the words
and never stops-at all

(I'm reproducing this from memory so I may not have it exactly as she wrote it but I know I'm pretty close).

I actually bought a Christmas gift for myself that is a necklace with a small silver disk with a bird on the front and on the back "hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul". It seemed like a good reminder to me not to give up on still improving my swallowing ability, having a less sensitive mouth, etc.

I know hope alone isn't enough but without hope, the other stuff seems pointless.

Nelie