When curative yields to palliative… UPDATE 11/27/06
Don’t forget to check some of my favorite blogs:
http://priceofliberty.net - The Price of Liberty is Vigilance
http://evenlittlesparrows.blogspot.com/ - Sparrow Chat
http://www.crooksandliars.com/ - Crooks and Liars
http://www.thinkprogress.org/ - Think Progess
http://www.nocapital.blogspot.com/ - No Capital
http://cernigsnewshog.blogspot.com/ - NewsHog
http://www.cursor.org - Cursor
http://www.mockpaperscissors.com/ - Mock, Paper, Scissors
http://tumblingvice.blogspot.com/ - Tumbling Vice
http://bobgeiger.blogspot.com/ - BobGeiger (formerly Yellow Dog)
http://left-over.blogspot.com/ - Left-Over
Glossary for newcomers:
Chief of the Counterfeit Compassionate Conservative And Oh Yeah By The Way Conspicuously Caucasian Caucus = George W. Bush
Dither of Dolts = The Bush Administration and heads of agencies
Lint Twins = The Bush twins, who, like lint, are neither useful nor decorative
Shithead = Karl Rove. To save typographer's labor and print space, this combines the two soubriquets frequently applied to Mr. Rove: Bush's Brain + Turd Blossom = Shithead
XianXrazies = Any group professing to be Christian which believes the faith excludes any of humanity from the hope it presumably offers since Christ's sacrifice or which believes it has successfully learned to read God's mind or which believes God wants followers who are drafted or gathered by impressment or which believes God hates or wants anyone else to hate those who do not believe in Him.
Ambulatory Emetic = Condi Rice, Secretary of State, aka the cacophagous, fawning bitch cur that slithers and crawls behind her master. A gourmand of whatever shit he deposits, she mixes it with her venomous digestive juices, then vomits it forth before the leaders of the world
War = . The indefeasible demonstration in support of the premise that we aren't good enough to qualify as fallen angels and aren't smart enough to qualify as risen apes.
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When curative yields to palliative… UPDATE 11/27/06
Continuing the saga begun here --
I received a call this morning to appear at the Interventional Radiation Laboratory for thoracocentesis. There I met with Dr. James Hadley, who may be the most gifted 12-year-old I ever met!
I jest. The good doctor is obviously a full-grown adult -- and an extraordinarily skilled physician -- but at my going-on-73-years, to me all people who have not yet grazed even forty look impossibly young. Dr. Hadley has a long march uphill yet to reach forty.
He and his "dream team" of assistants (a remarkable crew in their own rights, with a rare talent for balancing along that awkward tightrope stretched above condescension on one side and genuine supportiveness on the other) decided against a trip to Sugar Plum Fairyland for me. At my age, anesthesia comes with perils of its own. The good doctor explained why he felt, even without sedation, he could perform the procedure on my left lung with less unpleasantness than has been my lot in the past.
And, sure enough, despite my apprehensions, he was faithful to his promise. He removed close to a liter of fluid from the left lung with my being scarcely aware of it -- and was so heartened by the ease with which I bore it despite my initial nervousness that he suggested going on to tap the right lung again. I had not been aware of it, but apparently fluid is beginning to build there again, too. The shortness of breath was obviously not just my imagination! In the overall picture, that is not good news. However, when I suggested I'd like to defer the right lung tap for another time, Dr. Hadley at once agreed.
I reasoned that.because I was breathing much more easily and felt I needed time to "get my head around" the idea that thoracocentesis is not going to be so unrelentingly horrible as I had feared (or on occasion found it in the past), nor so rare and infrequent in the future as I had hoped, a short "breather" (ouch!) could be accommodated, He and his staff also found time someplace along the way to talk with my friend Allan (husband of my very good friend and ex-secretary Tamsin), who accompanied me to the session, and to bring him up to date on my situation. I always appreciate that. I like to be relieved of boring people with a story that no longer contains surprises.
Allan and Tamsin are leaving on a trip tonight,. That also played a role in my decision to stop at tapping only one lung. In case a double procedure left me unable to fend for myself, I did NOT want them changing their flight plans on my account (as they alternately offered and threatened to do). As it is, I'm fit as a fiddle, and Allan and Tamsin can jet to New York tonight as they originally planned. Tamsin will be returning on a flight next Friday, the day after my scheduled chemo session. By then, I anticipate I'll know if the rate of fluid buildup in either or both lungs is such that another procedure is needed.
Meantime, I know my analysis of the situation is probably accurate. When a doctor dedicated to clearing lungs tells his assistants not to "hassle" me about wanting to end the procedure with a cigarette, it's reasonably clear that he agrees with me that there really isn't any point depriving myself at this juncture. Who says there's no silver lining to this whole thing? I've just been provided with an authoritative medical sock to stop the mouths of all would-be anti-smoking lecturers!
By the time we were out of the building, Allan, ever faithful, was handing me my smokes and lighter. There's a man who understands things! Being able to walk, talk, and smoke at the same time -- let me tell you, there's a pleasure I hadn't realized I missed so much! And as I told Dr. Hadley, between years of smoking and drinking, I may well be immortal -- alcohol-preserved and tobacco-cured! If not, it's entirely too late to worry about it now.
It was a drizzly day. However, if fair skies return soon (or the rain at least stops), I see a walk or two in Miss Betsy's immediate future! She'll be pleased. I know I am. I should stay home to dust…but I'd hate to bring on a coughing episode from stirring up a week's accumulation since I was last able to tend to that chore, or so I tell myself (ahem!). Besides, Miss Betsy doesn't much mind dust, and she loves walks.
Praises for your new capable young doctor! (Comment this)
With two such authorities on the side of walks, it's a done deal! (Comment this)
Miss Betsy returns regardS! (Comment this)
Oxygenating in general is good.
But the biochemical pales before the simplicity of desire.
You are indeed, one well-preserved and wondrously self-determined wench. I knew I liked you for a reason, Rebel ! ! !
Ohhh, I have a joke for you, x:
God can't find Adam in the Garden of Eden, finally espies him, and asks "Where you been? Where's Eve?"
Adam says, "Eve and I just made love for the first time."
God shakes his head, "Uhh Oh. . .You weren't supposed to do that. Where's Eve now?"
"She's down at the river washing herself out."
God says, "Damn. Now all the fish will smell funny."
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My love to you. (Comment this)
Thank you for the kihd words and for a laugh that left me breathless in a pleasurable way! (Comment this)