The week past.

Looking back at last week’s offering it struck me that it has been a week since my last communication with all of you. Thanks for another round of compliments. Now I’ll try to remember the past week!

I still remember how tired I was last Saturday. I recovered nicely, however, and attended the early service at the Cathedral on Sunday so I could avoid a large crowd. I’m not a germaphobe, but I’ve been told I must be careful around crowds of germ-bearing humans.

I returned home and fixed a rather large breakfast and returned to the Cathedral to manage the Bookstore following the 10:00 service. Several people stopped in just to greet me.  It was very nice and I also was privileged to spend some time with dear, dear friends who live in, as one of my Colorado friends described her place, a “institution.” I have to avoid entering “institutions” because of the large number of germs being shared by the inhabitants.

I was able to keep an appointment with the attorney to make some changes in my will and powers of attorney. Just waiting now for the signing party in front of a notary and several witnesses.

I met with a trust officer from the bank and was assured that my funds would be looked after and distributed according to my instructions.

Tuesday was my appointment with my regular physician as a follow-up to my hospital stay.  All seems to be going well. My sodium is still below normal but not alarmingly so. I’ve been a good out-patient and have not consumed more that the 1.5 liters of liquid allowed me each day. 

I went to my regular post on Wednesday as a lobby greeter at the Washington Pavilion of Arts and Science.  It was good to be back.  Most of the schools in the region are back in session for this school year. That means less business at the Pavilion. Everyone is getting used to resuming their “school year” activities.

I’ve gone to to the same hair stylist for close to forty years. I saw her again on Wednesday and told her about my diagnosis. Hers is one of those few vocations in which she is going through the aging process herself and watches the aging happening to her clients. She thought I looked very good.

I made it to choir rehearsal Wednesday evening.  I was tired at the end but it was good to be back. I figure that the choir is a safe way for me to attend church because we sit apart from the regular congregation so the germs are fewer in number. This is my theory, at any rate, and I don’t change my mind often. If I must alter my state of mind, it’s done after a great deal of introspection and prayer.  Some would call it Swedish stubbornness!

Thursday I was overcome with ambition and met my trainer Glenda for 

a workout on the pilates reformer, which I refer to as the “rack.” The session went fine.  I walked for 45 minus and then headed for the therapy pool and a class in aqua chi. That is exercise to which I look forward to doing. That warm water feels so good.

The one side effect from the chemotherapy that I’ve noticed is that my beard is not growing much at all. I shave about every three days and there still isn’t enough with which to work. After I washed my hair in the shower on Friday I was towel drying furiously as I usually do and wondered what all that white stuff was floating around the room and on the towel.  Turns out it was my hair!  I guess I’m molting.  One of the predicted side effects!

Went out to lunch with some dear friends on Friday and had a good time. We met at one my favorite restaurants and I enjoyed my salmon salad. It was nice to get together and enjoy one another’s company.

Sophia at rest.

I’ve invited some friends for dinner on Monday evening. This Saturday morning I drove through the rain to get to the Farmers’ Market to pick up some fresh things for that dinner and just for me. Then I hustled to do a few more errands and prepared three of the dishes for Monday night. I enjoy cooking and will be happy to see my friends on Labor Day. I will admit that I was forced to stop by the Queen City Bakery to pick up some things for desert on Monday, and while there could not pass up one of their totally decadent bacon, spinach and cheese quiches. I usually opt for a large latte there, but given my fluid restrictions I had only a small one. I felt deprived but it was still awfully good.

One of us worked today. Sophia decided a dreary day should be used to relax and refresh. She did not work but napped exquisitely. Evidently it’s a sign of real relaxation to have one of your hind legs extended. Who knew?

That’s about it for the week. So many people have asked that I continue to keep them updated. I am so happy to hear from so many and thank you for your cards and notes, for your prayers and wishes for my good health. I am so blessed.

My dear friends and followers.

I’ve received so many comments from faithful readers about not writing the blog each day that I’ve decided to write today (still not everyday, mind you) and at other sporadic times.  Soon most of you will begin to nod off because of the relative boredom of my regular days.

Today was exceptional and I feel it!  I may have been a little over ambitious for someone quite out of shape.

This day began with an early trip to the Farmers’ Market, a lively, once per week event during “the season” in Sioux Falls. I needed to go early because I had other things to do.  Even at 10 minutes after opening it was a gala event in progress.  All kinds of people, children, aged and infirm, hale and hearty congregate to see their friends and neighbors, have a cup of coffee, a bite to eat and shop.  It really is a wonderful community and one seldom goes without running into someone you know. I picked up my healthy veggies for the week from Seedtime and Harvest, a dear family with whom I’ve traded for years. 

Part of Mrs. Robert Brydon

I rushed back home to give a little direction to the two angels who were busy loading a pick-up truck with trash, junk, bags of weeds and other just plain stuff from the garage.  It is now very clean, certainly more tidy and accessible for cars and humans.  What a blessing.  

Took my shower, shaved and went to the Cathedral to celebrate the Bartlemas, the English corruption of St. Bartholomew’s Day Mass. A few us went to lunch so I walked from the Cathedral parking lot to the Washington Pavilion, and back.  This is probably farther than I’ve walked any day since my parole from hospital.

One bunch of amaryllis.

Upon arrival at the homestead I said to myself, “Self, why don’t you mow the lawn?” And then self agreed that was a wonderful thing to do on this extremely mild and overcast August day. Mission accomplished!

Although it takes 15 minutes to mow my lawn, I did discover that the hills are not fun to mow when one is not in shape. 

The front garden is amazing when Mrs. Robert Brydon, a bush clematis is in bloom.  Bees and butterflies love her tiny blue flowers.  It’s amaryllis time when they shoot forth with their lovely pink flowers. The weather the last four days has been exceptionally nice. 

Sat a few minutes to read the mail and finish the August 4, NY Times magazine. One of my friends and teacher from the fitness center stopped by to visit for a bit and it was suddenly time for Evening Prayer and dinner.

Pause to ponder why people are shooting off fireworks tonight. Perhaps in honor of Bartlemas Day?

One hopes they are not gunshots.  Saw in the daily paper that an incident involving two ladies and one of their male friends resulted in some gun activity two blocks west of me! Not comforting in the slightest.

Valley behind the winery.

Suffice it to say I am weary this evening.

It is I, at the winery, obviously!

Yesterday I went on a road trip with my friend Colleen to a winery in Vermillion SD. It was a beautiful day to drive through the landscape still all green from our excess of moisture this year and to arrive at this charming place, totally unknown to me.  My friend sampled a couple of wines and I tried their locally produced bourbon.  I passed on the purchase.  Way too sweet for my taste with a maple syrup finish.  We went into town for lunch at a local restaurant which has excellent food and zero atmosphere.  It is a very busy place. Avocado tacos were superb.  It was also move in weekend for the eager students at the University of South Dakota so things were happening, as they say. Lots of weepy parents and scared kids all over the town.

The days since I last wrote were nothing to write about then, or now. So I won’t do it.  I have been feeling fine, no nausea, able to sleep, hungry all the time. I am so grateful that I’ve had none of the side-effects of the chemo, so far.  Many say, “just wait, you haven’t crashed yet.”  I can wait.

Thanks for your prayers and emails and cards.  They are all precious to me and I need every one of them.

I’ll keep in touch. Promise!

It was a good day

I guess no one has any idea of how they’ll feel when your body is pumped full of poison. I certainly did not and I’m continually surprise about how really good I feel.  Those who know me well comment about how much better I look. I must have appeared rather gray/green and haggard before being thrown into the slammer! I didn’t know I was sick but evidently I looked it!

I slept for nine hours last night.  I can’t recall ever sleeping that long.  It does help when an hovering angel didn’t descend every 2 hours for a blood draw.

Sophia has accepted the fact that I am back home and will not leave my side.  She must be in the same room with me.  “Ivy” did not get invited to my home,  thank goodness.

Sophia doesn’t sleep with me but she watches over me from the heights of her tower.

I made it to the appointment with my attorney to update my will and POAs. That task is finished. I still have to go to the bank and meet with the trust officer but I plan on making that appointment tomorrow. It’s very good to get some of these items checked off the to do list.

Driving does not seem to be an issue so I got myself to where I was going and back again. with no problem. 

Friend Marty came to clean today and also meet with Intek who will clean the furnace ducts. I had some very pleasant company which I enjoyed. I watered some pots, cut down some shrubbery whose sole goal is to grasp passers-by. And then I went to our Benedictine weekly meeting and celebrated the Eucharist. Now I’m beginning to be tired, but I know what to do to fix that.

The first day home was a good day.  I give thanks to God for giving it to me, and for all the friends who are praying for my healing.  I believe it will take place.  Thanks be to God.

I’ll not be blogging daily any more because no one is particularly interested in the hum-drum of life in the world.  I promise to tell you if there is any change in my condition. I’ll still be blogging anything important.

My prayers are for each of you.

And then it happened...

The morning was a pretty busy one with each of the affected specialities having their “Last Words” as it were. All agreed - let him go, let him go, let him go. Then, at the last possible moment the computer system went down!

The hospitals have become so dependent on technology that they simply cannot operate without it.  Not only were all the records unavailable, the medicines are in automated cabinets which were inoperable. The nurses were bustling about with little scraps of paper writing down information that will ultimately be transferred to the system. The usual method is to enter data as you read it right at the patient’s bedside.

Needless to say, dismissals are pretty low priority at this point.  At last the system was rebooted and functioned again. About 1:30 the doors were flung wide and I went forth into the world.  It was so good to smell outside air again. Friend Colleen took me to the drugstore to pick up my meds and then home.

I was released without restrictions and instructed to take only medication for high blood pressure  which I’ve never had before (neither the pills or the affliction),

I still feel fine, although I suddenly feel very weary. I’ve been running around the house dealing with mail, other items that needed to be dealt with and I guess I’m just tired. I don’t know if I’ll make it through the night without pining for a blood draw every two hours but I’ll take a stab at it.

I’ll let you know tomorrow about any matter of import.  I am going to bed.

Once again thanks for reading, for your helpful words and your prayers.

It just keeps beeping

and beeping, and beeping, and beeping. And soon I will be totally insane. Not just a little crazy, as most think at any given time. This time I may be pushed over the edge!

Is it really that bad? Probably not. Can I live with it? Probably. Will I live with out crushing it with a sledge hammer? Very likely. What am I complaining about?  Just a little thing. I was forced to adopt this creature which a clergyman said I should name “Ivy.” She is a long slim pole. One certainly could not fault her for being overweight. I must take her with me wherever I go. Sometimes I forget and walk away and she tugs me back to her side. She is supposed to be my lifesaver in that she delivers the drugs into my system through little plastic tubes. Only the stuff that pleases her will she allow through. She is given to fits when one of tubes is out of place. And when she is having troubles she sits and pouts and beeps. She has now been beeping for a full hour. 

There is a staff change at 7 PM. The previous nurse attendants have repeated over the last days and we have become friends. Today I have someone new I’ve not yet met.  The previous staff always came in to say goodby and introduce the one following them. That didn’t happen tonight and it is almost 9 PM. Only the attendant is allowed to mess with Ivy’s buttons. Before long I will take Ivy for a walk about the public area and see if there is anyone out there who will make Ivy happy to be silent. 

But there are better parts about this day that I want to tell you about. Now I can do that for Ivy and I did go to the public area where I encountered my former nurse who jabbed at one of her buttons and she fell silent.  The mystery remains. Who is my nurse?

It sounds like I’ve become codependent or something. I can see how that can happen in an institution when one finds it is really not one’s home and one is suddenly at the mercy of an institution which one knows not how to navigate.  The first person to be a guide can easily become the one depended upon.

I’m still here in the hospital due to sodium! It was sodium which brought me here and sodium keeps me here.  I related part of that story yesterday. It continued today. The nephrologist still wants to get to the basis of the sodium mystery.  It moved into the normal range too rapidly to suit the powers that be.  Now they want to find out why.  

No one seemingly knew that I was still in the hospital. Then one couple appeared and wanted to go to work at my house on whatever project they could do. Bless them.

The Eucharistic Ministers from the Cathedral came with my Holy Communion, joined by another and we had further time to visit. Nice.

Another little group gathered and joined by a few more coming and going. All afternoon this went on.  I loved it. The newcomers knew some of those here and all kinds of connections were remade, renewed, rejoiced in. It was healing.  A quiet afternoon was expected and an exciting afternoon replaced it.  Thanks be to God.

I know now who my nurse is and I instantly relaxed. Strange, isn’t it? Intellectually I wasn’t bothered by this unknown fact. But, emotionally it became almost a burden to be unwillingly borne.

The staff here thinks I will be cordially invited to exit tomorrow. I’ll let you know tomorrow night about my location. I’ve been made to feel very comfortable here in hospital and it was amazing to begin the chemotherapy in an inpatient setting. The rest will be outpatient. I expect the same kind of bonds will form visit after visit.

I won’t find out my schedule until I check out. Then I can see how I can plan my weeks. I am also continually reminded that the chemo effects have not hit full force by any means yet. God has shown me I can do many things I was afraid to even try. I consider it a major victory that I can say yes when someone offers to help.

Don’t stop asking if you can help, please.  It’s a sign of love. It’s a sign of ubuntu. I am because you are, and you are because of me.

God bless and good night.

Saturday of the nineteenth week of Ordinary Time, Saturday of the Week of Proper Fourteen, Henceforth to be known as The Third Day of Chemotherapy.

Good evening once again from my comfortable and exquisite suite at the Avera McKennan Hospital in Sioux Falls. Thank you for joining me.

It’s been a busy day again.  The  “ologists” all swarmed in the early hours and after little discussion, said “Out with him, I say out. After Chemotherapy this afternoon, begone, away with thee.” Except for one wee voice which squeaked out, “Nay, he stayeth.” And the others stared down at the wee Nephrologist and saith unto her, “Speak up, why say ye Nay?” And the Nephrologist squeaked forth, “His sodium did elevate itself too rapidly. We must question why did this occur. They finally fell in defeat and saith “Nay, he stayeth.  Amen.”

Thus it was proclaimed and thus recanted. The visitors came forth in the accustomed healing multitudes for which the afflicted rejoiced in their arrival, had his spirits uplifted and gave thanks.

Now the expected severe thunderstorm rages outside this safe window and I peacefully reflect on the day. Chemo three and last went fine. I’m continually warned that I haven’t begun to crash so don’t think it is going to be a piece of cake. It will not be as lovely as that ginormous piece of carrot cake you just consumed, or the delicious young Colorado peaches which appeared with a wonderful guest this afternoon. Darn!

Now I’ll have to think about being home alone when I really feel punk and painfully remember the friends around me as I began this pilgrimage. I hope they continue their rounds while I’m home. I hope….

My day attendant Tim, who was new to me today, came in a quiet time and asked shyly, “How did you make so many friends.” “Well, Tim, when you’ve lived in one place for ever, taught half the kids for years, preached at another bunch for who knows how long, and been involved in volunteer programs in a variety of settings, it just happens. Then one friend comes to visit and another at the same time, and they find they know one another, and a third gets involved in the mix and pretty soon you have a wild party in your room with you in the middle just eating it up.” The sheer joy of friendship performing it’s healing power, upsetting the rest of the hospital (not really) with whatever is going on in there, probably suspecting someone slipped in a little joy juice to lubricate the proceedings, (which they hadn’t), and Tim began to understand. Friendship takes work but it certainly brings rewards.

Now another magic happens. For years your friends depart with “Call me if you need anything.” And you don’t because you are fiercely independent and afraid to show any weakness and you secretly want to say “I did it all by myself.” Then you change your tune and say, “I wonder if you could help….” And all of a sudden you have more help and helpful suggestion than you ever could use. Then you learn you can say, “ I didn’t do it myself but my friends were very kind and really helped out.“  Which is a far better and rewarding thing to say than the other.

And so another day has passed its ending with the blessing of God’s rain upon the un-parched ground.  God has been very good in providing moisture all summer. I’ve not watered the lawn all summer. Gave a few flowers in pots a drink once in a while and just enjoyed the beauty and all the money I’ve saved by not spending it on the lawn, which is such a waste.  A good day it was and I give all of you and my good God thanks for it.

We’ll see where tomorrow brings us along this pilgrimage.  Ubuntu.

Peace. Good night.

Friday of the nineteenth week of Ordinary Time, Friday of the Week of Proper Fourteen and henceforth to be known as The Second Day of Chemotherapy.

Welcome faithful readers and newcomers to this blog. God’s blessing be upon you as it has been on me demonstrated by you to me and through me to you and to others. I am because you are and you are because of me- ubuntu.

Blogging at an even later hour than yesterday, which I thought, by the way, to be at least the end of time itself. I’m still not sleepy either because of the steroids but, I think by the healing energy my visitors have shared with me. That is priceless and I treasure all who visited in person and through phone calls and messaging have reassured me of their prayers for me to Almighty God, to our Lady of Walsingham, patroness of my Benedictine Chapter, to the Archangel Raphael and the whole company of heaven. I humbly say, “Thank you.”

Every caller a very special person in my sight, the topper of the day might be Fr. Jonathan Folts, our bishop elect, who is working in the Diocese until he’s ordained bishop in November. He is doing exactly what I had hoped for when he was elected. He is showing me that by spending his time with the clergy and their families. He must get to know them because he has clearly understood that the bishop has to be the pastor of the pastors. They and their families are his “parish” and he is not the pastor of the entire diocese.

Too many bishops in these “modern” times feel their calling as CEO’s of the diocese and forget that their clergy families are clearly left out to seek their own counsel and guidance. Then they wonder why the church continues to lose her direction and all does not turn peachy- 

keen because they followed all the rules from the CEO handbook excepting the rules from The Book.

Getting back to the story of the day. Father has phoned this old, retired, sick priest who may make it to the day of father’s actual ordination as bishop every day and made the promise that he would see me on Friday and we would receive Christ in Holy Communion together. And so we did. We had a wonderful visit and I feel he is truly committed to my care as to all priests in his cure. Thanks be to God.

Anything else happen. Yes, I had the second infusion of chemotherapy, had excellent visits with all the physicians and nurse attendants. The attendants have all been bright, young, thoughtful and compassionate learners who seek this assignment because they are training to become chemotherapy assistants and administer this healing gift of God through them. They are missionaries, and will simply by their caring actions disperse this gift to others. Thanks be to God.

Oh, by the way, I arranged for help in cleaning my house on a regular basis, thought of a way to finally get the garage emptied out without my involvement in the activity therein and well on the path to finding my cancer insurance policy through Aflac and finding out what it’s value is to me. I paid for it automatically by electronic withdrawal for many years. I evidently fell for some salesperson’s pitch at one point never thinking that I would really get cancer! hah, the best laid plans…, had a great FaceTime with a great friend far away, and so much more. It was a blessed day and I never had time to take my friend “iv” for a stroll in the hall. When the oncologist comes in tomorrow that’s the first question on her list.  Did you go for a walk? I will flunk oncologization. Sorry, I was too busy being ministered to! Promoted, yes. Why? I submitted to healing by hearing it from those who cared.

Bless you all. 

Later on the 15th.

It's now 9:00 PM.  Long, long day begun at 4:AM to ready for Radiology to take me away and insert a port, which is line running into your heart looping around in your neck and planted in a little, rubber donut thing right under the skin near the right shoulder. That allows the infusers to enter it with a little poke and search and mess around a finally find a vein. Much easer.

They didn't show on time! Must take emergency cases, etc.

The nuclear medicine person with her little lead box appears and proceeds to make me radioactive.

A wait for the bone-scanners to show and haul be off for the bone scan. A procedure much like an MRI. enough said.

We went into business making book on a fist fight between the competing departments and who would win the prize - me - on the take away rights. Our business dropped like a lead balloon when the Nukes arrived by themselves. Bummer.

Finally, at 1:15 PM the Rads appeared and hauled me off to Radiology and the Comedy Cut-ups got to go at me with knives and stuff. I emerged after a very few minutes with a new thing under my chest.  I'm positive it makes me look more manly than ever! I've been instructed on the care and feeding of this new precious object given into my care. (Condensed version - "don't mess around with it, or else!)

Back to my luxurious single room with sitting area, private shower spa, "hardwood floors (a totally failure at duplication of a real thing), and other luxurious amenities too excessive to mention and risk overwhelming my readers with excessive dwelling on the small things of life! All this is available to you, too, for the reasonable daily price comparable to that to obtain a suite at  Raffles in Singapore. Full board included at both places.  You do not get the Rolls Royce. Sorry.

To return from comments aside.  I got to order lunch! Anything I wanted! They would even send out for take-away! All of this was to divert attention from the team that invaded my private space and surveyed the situation, began dressing their valued  friends in bright blue suits, and some in other costumery usually seen on the Eve of All Hallows. Let the infusion begin. Colleen is rapidly spiting out questions in my fashionable sitting area. The oncologist is explaining that this piece of tube goes to this bag which contains an isotope of X and C sub 14, etc., which will ultimately kill you off if one does not respect its authority. And I am respectfully listening to all this whilst munching on my uniquely prepared sub and side of mac and cheese. I know it might have looked like I had a super power to appear to be fascinated.

In the meanwhile I had a number of wonderful visitors amongst which were my entire community as they could muster in the midst of the workday were given permission to bring me Holy Communion from the Good Shepherd Eucharist a bit earlier. While fighting fatigue to get this out tonight I'm sure errors abound and typos and grammar horrors, etc. I will not attempt to fix it tonight. I may tomorrow but I want to see really how these various poisonous drugs affect my healing by killing off my entire immune system and restoring it. And I want to see how my own self is reacting mentally and verbally and just how things go.

Readers please realize this may be of some interest to you and I sincerely hope it is. You are truly aiding my healing process by continuing  to read whether the writing is good or bad, I care not. And you, obviously share that opinion. In this situation we realize that we are one. Ubuntu our African kin describe it nicely. They explain it this way. I am with you and you are with me. I exist because you are. You exist because we are. There is no difference. Ubuntu. We are all brothers and sisters we are not different. Something to ponder. It's still a journey. It's still a pilgrimage. Bless you.

Like a jet plan!!!

Things are moving so fast (except the sitting and waiting part) that I must dash this off between.

Today I get a port for chemo, chemo begins whether the port is in or not. I've already been for a bone scan. The Benedictine Community will be bringing Holy Communion after the feast-day eucharist. The nephrologist has reported good things about by sodium level. I can leave anytime as far as they are concerned. The oncologist can keep me a few more days with insurance so they can do as much as possible with me as an in-patient, so I will probably be home on Sunday - maybe. Later.

Keep praying friends.  I'll have to change my procrastinating ways.

Wednesday, August 14.

I guess it’s Wednesday today.  This is turning into a long week. Here’s what I know.

Day begins early and spent most of the day waiting for reports from the liver biopsy.  Meanwhile sodium continues to get better, which is a good sign.  Several good visitors.  Finally the oncologist arrives about 7 PM and announces that the biopsy results are Stage 4 small cell lung cancer already spread to the liver.  He explained that each cell will continue to spread and the prognosis for no intervention is 3 -5 months! Can we say that is practically tomorrow all of a sudden? He is really kind and explains the options. The upside is that they can begins with the initial steps while I’m here in the hospital which will allow a faster turn-round time but most of the time will be spent as an outpatient. That will give me 4-5 years. Treatable but not curable! I’ve told them to begin. Hope it’s the correct decision. Pray for me.

Tuesday, August 13

It’s only Tuesday but it certainly doesn’t feel like the day after yesterday.  I think it is closer to a week’s of time passing.  On Monday early afternoon the nurse called and told me to check into the hospital immediately.  I told her I had an appointment with the trust officer at 3:00 and I would check in after that was completed.  She said I need to go immediately. So I did.

It turns out my sodium was “critically low.”  A room was available without a delay and the work -ups began. Prep started for a lower abdomen CT scan which involved drinking two pints of liquid and dye right after I was told no more liquid for the day. It washes out the sodium.  Then the prep began for the biopsy.  Following that the spots on the liver and lung were confirmed as cancer. The rest of night was spent in an attempt to sleep in spite the constant visits of the “vampires” who insisted on depriving me of my  bodily fluids. After a long morning’s wait I was finally transported to imaging for the biopsy.  That confirmed that the liver “spots” were malignant. They have really good drugs down there, I will attest to that.  Finally got some rest!

Now it was to determine the treatment. The liver was chosen as the organ of diagnosis because those spots probably received the malignant cells from the lung. Now the next process is develop the plan of treatment. 

Now that I process this and have learned more about the dangers of low sodium I think that might have been the source of my complaints last autumn - shortness of breath after light activity, and a few other things that led to the full cardiac work-up I had last November? 

Anyway, sodium was still very low and finally moved out of the critical range this afternoon. That is the greatest concern right now is the slow sodium. Every one of the symptoms I’ve experienced is one of those related to side effects of low sodium.

Now we wait prepared for another long period of evaluation and prescription.

More news from today.

Here’s the latest news.  Nurse called this morning and asked that I come in for another blood panel.and urinalysis  The CT scan last Friday showed a spot on my lung and on my liver. She’s making an appointment with an oncologist. Haven’t been notified of that date yet. I’ve made appointments with my attorney and trust department to go over some things that I should have done a few years or more ago. There comes a time when my procrastination catches up with me! Again, thanks for your support and prayers. Doctor thinks I need to go in for a biopsy. Sodium has gone down from last week.

A different journey.

A different journey.

I’m used to updating this blog at the end of the year so that  you can find out what is happening or has happened in lieu of a Christmas Letter.

There is something going on right now which is of interest to some friends so I will try to update more often. This will help since I’ll not have repeat the same information.

For the past three weeks or so I’ve been experiencing a vague feeling of anxiety, lack of balance and inability to concentrate. It was time for my annual visit to the doctor so I decided to bring all of this up for discussion.  My main concern was the onset of Alzheimers which was my father’s malady. Would I have to sell my home and deal with all the “stuff” I’ve accumulate over the past 30+ years? It seems one always expands to fit the available storage space, which is exactly what I’ve done.

I was supposed to play for church last Sunday and tomorrow. I informed the music director I was not able to play so he found another to do that task. That greatly relieved my anxiety. I don’t know why I should be nervous about playing a few hymns on the electronic keyboard but that was evidently part of my angst.

When I was practicing a couple of very easy pieces I would take a measure that obviously was not up to snuff and practice that as I have learned to do from my teachers. I’d return to the same piece and it was like I was sight reading. No improvement due to my concentrated work on the difficult measures.                                                        

The doctor sent me for a blood panel after which he called and informed me that everything was normal except for low sodium.  Interesting that most people my age discover the opposite to be the case. He asked me to return the next day for another panel which showed the same thing. 

He explained to me that the pituitary gland is one that helps regulate the sodium level so there could be a problem there. Off I went on Wednesday for an MRI on that gland and my brain stem. That revealed nothing abnormal. When the nurse called with the results the next day she told me I needed to come in for a chest x-ray which, being an obedient patient, I did. She called me back that afternoon and told me the x-ray showed no change from my last one but the doctor wanted to wait for the radiologist’s interpretation wherein he found a small shadow on my left upper lung not present in the previous x-ray.

So I was referred for a CT scan which happened on Friday. I assume I’ll hear about that on Monday given the weekend activities. 

So, it’s been a medical test every day of this week. I’m used to seeing the doctor once each year making this quite a change!

I’ll post more when I know more. Thanks for reading this.