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It began in 2014 when my mother-in-law, Adrienne, received the diagnosis of a terminal illness called idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. Idiopathic, meaning “disease of its own” from the Greek; pulmonary, having to do with the lungs (that one’s Latin); and fibrosis, meaning stiffening or scarring (Latin, again). To put it bluntly, she was slowly suffocating, and no one knew the cause. With predictable, Princetonian determination, I threw myself into the role of primary caretaker, learning the medical vocabulary and mastering the pharmacological options with such confidence that many doctors asked me if I were a nurse.
Be forewarned: This story contains death and a dead body. And even worse, you will laugh.
Be forewarned: This story contains death and a dead body. And even worse, you will laugh.. It began in 2014 when my mother-in-law, Adrienne, received...
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