We none of us can pronounce "dialysis"

    Well, between Dad, Margaret and me, that is. Granted it's a difficult word. Granted two of us are fast approaching 91. But we all tend to stick on the word. Dad for a long time called it "the place I go" or "the place I go three times a week." Margaret will stick on the word and otherwise has trouble pronouncing it. I have more trouble with the word than with most words, too, and find a certain difficulty saying it as well.
    I don't think we're in denial or anything. I guess it's mostly all it represents: the loss of freedom of movement; the loss of all that time; and the actual discomfort it causes Dad three times a week. (I'd rather blame the dipthong, but I don't think that's really a dipthong. Long, long, long time since I took Phonics. Really love using the word "dipthong" at every opportunity, though.)
    And on this Thanksgiving Day: Thanks!