Twenty-six, seven

Finally got some sleep.  Not the night through, but easily 4x average of the last week.  Whew.  Nice long walk.  Took Dr. Girvin to airport.  Sad to see her go.  Clinic appointment tomorrow morning.  Will keep you posted.  Where you all at?

25

Sleep Sleep Sleep.  Ugh.  What I wouldn't give for some.  Dr. Girvin and her assistant Karen Wilson in for the weekend.  Who do you like in the Belmont now?

Plain and simple, this one is my kinda guy:

24

Two walks today.  TWO.  Whew.  Eating and drinking fine.  Tired as I don't know what and trying to sort sleep situation out.  Guess I am coming of the Ambien and Ativan too.  Forced myself to stay up late w/o a nap for first time.  So hard I ended up watching NBA basketball.  Chess slump is official.  Split with The Rick, though he will tell you he took two.  The clock don't lie. Gotta get that straightened out.  Probably a good problem to have at this point.  Though the sharks smell blood.  Keep the comments coming, a balm on my spirit.  Especially when they're funny.

This one shakes what her mama gave her, and mama gave her a lot.  Spicier than a pepper sprout.

What rhymes with 23?

Clinic today.  WBC down, but expectedly, as I stopped Neupogen injections.  Sorta flying on my own, so to speak.  RBC and PLTs both up a tad and those too are all by my lonesome, so perhaps engraftment is taking place—totally my conjecture, they don't check for that for a while.  But it ain't bad news.  Good news is fluid is ebbing and lung cultures remain negative.  Got 4mg of Magnesium replacement which is good for the ticker and will help with my preterm contractions.  Dear ol' dad pulled some end game brilliancy to beat me in a game of chess for the first time in 30 some years.  I was shamed and proud at the same time.  I think it might keep him at the table for a few more years which is good for both of us.  The Rick was ducking me like Larry Holmes, but when he saw today's  tilt he got all excited for a game.  Kinda tells you what you need to know.

The beauty of this one frightens me.  FRIGHTENS me,  Is this what Rilke meant when he said "Every Angel is terrifying."  KME?  help here.

Nobody but me.

Catch 22

Gotta get well enough to go home.  Don't think I can do that absent home.
Deprived of my family is some kind of torture.  Back to Doctor's today, probably to learn about chest and fluid.  Wish I had better news.

I said warden, warden, warden
wont you break your lock and key
yeah, come along here, mister
C'mon and let the poor boy be

21

Tony as the digs are they cannot occlude the facts.  Nor can I.  Miss my wife and children and friends.  Feel like I have been amputated.  Wish there was Dilaudid for the heart.  I've looked, but have not found.  Another day, another scar.

OUR SADNESS (Denis Johnson)
There’s a sadness about looking back when you get to the end:
a sadness that waits at the end of the street,
a cigaret that glows with the glow of sadness
and a cop in a yellow raincoat who says It’s late,
it’s late, it’s sadness.

And it’s a sadness what they’ve done to the women I loved:
they turned Julie into her own mother, and Ruthe--
and Ruthe I understand has been turned
into a sadness...

And when it comes time
for all of humanity to witness what it’s done
and every television is trained on the first people to see God and
they say
Houston,
we have ignition,
they won’t have ignition.

They’ll have a music of wet streets
and lonely bars where piano notes
follow themselves into a forest of pity and are lost.
They’ll have sadness.
They’ll have
sadness, sadness, sadness.

HEY, NINETEEN (and 20, for tech difficulties last night)

View out my window at The Newton County Day School of the Sacred Heart. Library on the left, Lax field background, a little robin, hard to pick out, foreground.  The living is high.  Soft sheets, fluffy pillows, quiet like I forgot I could even imagine.  People decent and generous as all get out.  I have kind of a master suite, Dad has a room with a head across the hall.  Kitchen, TV/lounge space and acres and acres of walking.  And it's way more independent than parochial.  The Rick is 15 minutes away, but so close to my heart.

No we can't dance together/ no we can't talk at all/ please take me along when you slide on down.

EIGHTEEN. I once had a girl (or should I say she once had me.)

Lung spots no longer worrisome, mainly because they come with no corresponding symptoms (fever, difficulty breathing).  Current operating hypothesis is the spots are previous bad places now drawing rightful attention of new white cells.  In any case, I'll be discharged tomorrow, day 19.  For some more regular living, if you can call living with out your wife and children in any way regular.  Through the kindness and great generousness of THE RICK and his school, The Sacred Heart School, I'll be living in a house on campus in Newton Mass.  Details to follow.  I intend on keeping you up to speed with my situation in this way until day 100 and hopefully not longer.  Check the blog early and often, comment when so moved.

Today's a baby step, just like the last. But by many baby steps are one's shoes bronzed. or something like that.

and when I awoke, I was alone/ this bird had flown/ so I lit a fire/ Isn't good Norwegian wood?

SEVENTEEN

W: 10.69  HCT: 26.2  PLT: 19k   Good jumps across the board.  Then had the pleasure of TWO immediate lung tests.  In the first test, I breathed something yucky through a nebulizer that produced deep-down from the soul sputum  First and second efforts were fair to middling results.fd  Third, however, actually made the tech cheer.  YES! Maybe garbagemen get amped about maggots? I don't know.  Could've spit the blue-ribbon oyster from the tennis courts on top of Central Elementary, but probably would've gotten paddled for it.  Like Naughton and baby tennis games.

Second test: the broncoscopy, or as I like to say, the Bronc, was a bit more involved, invasive.  Begin by breathing nebulized lidocaine beyond such time as speaking was easy in any way.  Partial numbing.    COmplete numbing came by a hand-held fertilizer gun, single action.  Hold the tongue down and play arcade games with the uvula.  2-4-6-8 times.  Shake the gun, lidocaine dregs all that remain.  "That's probably enough.  How do you feel?"  "Likeagolfball in m-throat."  "Good.  Good.  That's perfect  Lie back and we'll start the meds"  ME thinking (not well): what meds?  funny you asked.  He shows me a battery of check valves:  Versed and Fentanyl.  Needless to say, these two, in 1-2 puch combo maeke me LEMON PIE FILING.  After that, no memory.  I was puddle of pie filling the rest of the day. A Great great opportunity cost as LUT and Bryan Morris of Bryan Morris Masonry were in town to visit.  would be even more ashamed for my behavior, but that it was totally out of my drugged shortened control.  THis is junky talk for sure except i dont think im a junky yet.  Just sore at myself and lonely as could be and sad i didn't get to say adios to my compeñeros.  Any of you weghing the full visit , I usually host bettet