#Bauby

[eggymoth]

Buny.......

[shamballalin]

Never Own A Disease

How many times have you said, “I am …” or “I have …” as if some illness defines you? Any illness, regardless of how severe the condition is, is not who you are. You are much more than the illness that may be present. There is more to you than you know. There is a major difference between any illness and the person who lives within the walls of your skin. Yes, you may be a paraplegic like Jean…

[coochiekrab]

i've had a dream where you've had an oc named Bobby and he was like a slug or a snail is that true?

I call Aubrey Bobby sometimes. I think he melted in your dreams

[smuglemon]

FINALLY getting around to making proper refs of my main ocs!! this is bauble and marble and they are in love

[escapeintothepages]

“I need to feel strongly, to love and admire, just as desperately as I need to breathe.”

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Jean-Dominique Bauby

[dk-thrive]

roses picked at dusk, the laziness of a rainy Sunday, a child crying himself to sleep

Other letters simply relate the small events that punctuate the passage of time: roses picked at dusk, the laziness of a rainy Sunday, a child crying himself to sleep. Capturing the moment, these small slices of life, these small gusts of happiness, move me more deeply than all the rest. A couple of lines or eight pages, a Middle Eastern stamp or a suburban postmark … I hoard all these letters like treasure. One day I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship.”

—  Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Vintage, March 6, 2008) (via Wait-What?)

[sharry-arry-odd]

A couple of lines or eight pages, a Middle Eastern stamp or a suburban postmark . . . I hoard all these letters like treasure. One day I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship. It will keep the vultures at bay.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, by Jean-Dominique Bauby

[thepro-lifemovement]

In Jean-Dominique Bauby’s book, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, he offers some insight to how someone with locked-in syndrome may feel with people visiting them and conversing with themes :

Nervous visitors come most quickly to grief. They reel off the alphabet tonelessly, at top speed, jotting down letters almost at random; and then, seeing the meaningless result, exclaim, “I'm an idiot!" But in the final analysis, their anxiety gives me a chance to rest, for they take charge of the whole conversation, providing both questions and answers, and I am spared the task of holding up my end. Reticent people are much more difficult. If I ask them, "How are you?" they answer, "Fine," immediately putting the ball back in my court. With some, the alphabet becomes an artillery barrage, and I need to have two or three questions ready in advance in order not to be swamped. Meticulous people never go wrong: they scrupulously note down each letter and never seek to unravel the mystery of a sentence before it is complete. Nor would they dream of completing a single word for you. Unwilling to chance the smallest error, they will never take it upon themselves to provide the "room" that follows "mush," the "ic" that follows "atom," or the "nable" without which neither "intermi" nor "abomi" can exist. Such scrupulousness makes for laborious progress, but at least you avoid the misunderstandings in which impulsive visitors bog down when they neglect to verify their intuitions. Yet I understood the poetry of such mind games one day when, attempting to ask for my glasses (lunettes), I was asked what I wanted to do with the moon (lune).

What I’ve learned from this is that we need to be patient with others, especially those with limited abilities. And sometimes those with limited speech or those trying to rest in the hospital may prefer we just talk to them without asking open-ended questions.

[allxm]

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"Aujourd′hui, il me semble que toute mon existence n'aura été qu′un enchaînement de petits ratages. Des femmes qu'on n'a pas su aimer, des chances qu′on n′a pas voulu saisir, des instants de bonheur qu'on a laissés s′envoler. Une course dont on connaît le résultat, mais on est incapable de toucher le gagnant. Étais-je aveugle et sourd, ou bien fallait-il nécessairement la lumière d'un malheur pour m′éclairer sur ma vraie nature?"

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— Le scaphandre et le papillon (2007)

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[litandlifequotes]

I am fading away. Slowly but surely. Like the sailor who watches his home shore gradually disappear, I watch my past recede. My old life still burns within me, but more and more of it is reduced to the ashes of memory.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby

[firstsentence]

"In Hong Kong, I have a little trouble finding my way, for unlike many of my other destinations, this city is one I have never actually visited." 🍵

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Starting the new year by reading The Diving-Bell and the Butterfly.

Memoirs aren't a genre I typically go for, but this one sounded so interesting that I had to give it a go.

[escapeintothepages]

"I hoard all these letters like treasure. One day I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship."

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Jean-Dominique Bauby

[dk-thrive]

Capturing the moment, these small slices of life, these small gusts of happiness, move me more deeply than all the rest.

Other letters simply relate the small events that punctuate the passage of time: roses picked at dusk, the laziness of a rainy Sunday, a child crying himself to sleep. Capturing the moment, these small slices of life, these small gusts of happiness, move me more deeply than all the rest. A couple of lines or eight pages, a Middle Eastern stamp or a suburban postmark … I hoard all these letters like treasure. One day I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship. — Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Vintage, March 6, 2008) (Via Alive on All Channels)