A lot, when you can find humor in the healing. My psychiatrist asked me for months, “And how is your sugar?” For months, I answered back, “He’s good.
Helpful and very supportive!” I didn’t realize until a few weeks ago that he was asking me about my sugar levels. He thought that I was diabetic.
I must have accidentally checked a wrong box on my intake form. I laughed all day remembering how I let him know each week how my boyfriend was doing.
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