Doctor No. 2: ‘Say You’ve Got Five Years’

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I somehow couldn’t find it in myself to post this yesterday. Dr. No. 2 thought it likely I might live for five more years. Oh, boy.

Meanwhile, everybody I know says I look so much better than I did some months ago. I wish I could see that.

If God decides to save me, then that’s that: He will. I would like to finish the books I’d planned to write. I would like to see the Democrat Party go down like a house of cards. Is there even a remote possibility that we’ll ever go fishing again? (What did I do with our outboard motor?)

Get back to work as soon as I can. And pray.

Sorry! I’ll Try Again Tomorrow

Well, the computer won’t let me post a picture, I spent another afternoon doctoring, and I just don’t feel like trying to do much more. Call it a do-over and try again tomorrow.

I’m getting very averse to being stuck with needles. Can I please go back to civilian life?

The Ordeal Commenceth

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So here we go. No solid food allowed today, drink I don’t know how much of this brew that’s supposed to clean out my innards, a bath without a bathtub…

And if I get any sleep at all, it’ll be a miracle. (“Take this at 10 p.m.! Take this at 3:30 a.m.!”)

I will be out for several days. I’ll ask Patty to post an update. I don’t know when they’ll let me go home. They wouldn’t let me have a doughnut with my breakfast.

How I’m supposed to write a book with all this going on…!

It’s Looming Up in Front of Me

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I just can’t stay away from the freakin’ hospital, can I?

Something’s gone wrong with my spirit (morale approaching zero).

This will be my last sort-of, better-than-nothing normalcy for some time. Monday we do all this preparation that’s been laid on hospital patients. Better get it right! No sleep will be allowed. And then, before Tuesday’s sun comes up, we have to pile into the car and drive to the hospital.

After that, they cut me open. Then they’ll keep me there for some days.

So if you don’t hear from me, it’s because I’ve been swallowed up by the vastness and complexity of JFK Hospital, like Jonah and the whale, and I don’t know when they’ll let me out again. I don’t know anything about colon surgery, and I wish the pleasure of finding out had been indefinitely postponed.

 

Yet Another Morning at the Hospital

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Missed the whole morning today, off to the hospital for a transfusion that took three hours. I wouldn’t’ve let them catch me if I’d known that.

But yesterday was the living end. We had no sooner started to prepare supper–having visited two more medical facilities, one in the morning and the other in the afternoon–when the &*^%$&% phone rings and surprise, surprise, it’s the flamin’ hospital again! “Yo, patient, you gotta come right back, we just thought of another test for you! And if you’re not here by 6:30, the whole process will have to start over again!” Supper, schmupper.

Today, of course, was the transfusion.

And Monday night is hell night. God preserve us.

Progress (?) Report

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I’m being given a few weeks to recover from all the various medical attentions I’ve received since last summer–

Because I need to build up some of my strength–

[trumpet fanfare] for the colon cancer operation coming next month!

Other than that, Patty thinks I’ve moving around better and have a bit more staying power than I had, oh, two weeks ago.

The radiation/chemotherapy knocked out the rectal cancer, but in so doing, left sort of a nuclear wasteland in my innards. Shot the dickens out of my memory, too. It takes a good while to recover from that.

It’d be nice to be back to normal by Christmas.

Goodbye, Catheter

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Last night was my first night in months without the catheter. Difficult!

I had to get out of bed and march to the bathroom five times last night, to pee. I’m paying for that now, with a ton of fatigue. But the nurse had told me what to expect, and assured me that it would get better as time went on.

Everybody’s telling me to rest, which I have every inclination to do. I have to recover so they can operate on the colon cancer. I never thought I’d ever be this much of a mess.

So… let’s see what I can find on YouTube.

Back from the Doctor’s

I felt kind of like a frog trying to jump out of a deep bucket. But at least the doctor was happy: rectal cancer gone, kaput, sayonara, finished.

He’d still like to operate on the colon cancer–say six weeks from now. I have never had abdominal surgery. I wonder how long I’ll be stuck in the hospital.

Anyhow, it’s supposed to be good news, my wife thinks so, my sister thinks so, and any opinion I might have would be based on ignorance and fear. That works for foreign policy, but isn’t so great for everyday life.