Blog Archive: Week of 15 September 2024
From the illustrated dictionary definition of "cute."
21 September 2024. My decline continues. I can deal with the physical issues far better than I can the mental ones. I can compensate for increasing pain with pain medication and, when things get really bad, I still have my wheelchair. Although I haven't had to use the chair in quite a long time—ever since I got my fluid retention under control—I do not have a problem dusting it off. No, my fear is losing my emotional cool. Back when I first started hospice, my head was in a very bad way: on frequent random occasions, I would seize up in waves of debilitating fear, actually bordering on terror, of being unable to breathe. Hospice helped get that under control as well, to the extent that all such episodes were eliminated. But, lately, I've been sensing vague twinges of those old fears drifting past like faint ghosts. It may be a simple matter of just upping the med doses, but at some point I suspect the meds will begin to lose their effectiveness. That is the distant but approaching point on which I am keeping a wary eye, because it marks the time when I will begin serious inquiries into their assistance in bringing my final life chapter to a close. And timing is critical: I need to make the call before I go too crazy to be trusted with the decision.
20 September 2024. Just another day in paradise. Still acclimating to this new plateau. It's nice to know that there are people paying attention, and checking on on me. Friends tell me they read my posts, and ask how I am feeling. My phone hums with text messages practically all day long. And the hospice service has their own internal process of keeping tabs on their customers. Ever since I hit this new plateau, I've been getting calls from their support personnel. Yesterday afternoon I heard from their director, which means everyone there at all levels gets involved. It is most encouraging, and I am grateful for having such a broad support group, both personally and professionally. While I physically feel unwell, at least it is not compounded by emotional distress. Today's image is a sample of my modeling hobby, for those who might be interested in seeing how that is coming together.
19 September 2024. Still getting used to this new plateau in the disease. Each one comes with a collection of changes and quirks. This time, the back of my left hand is numb. The arthritis in my right hip has gone from annoying to almost debilitating. The pain in what used to be both legs is now in just my left leg. My tinnitus has gone up a few notches. I can fall asleep just as quickly, but I can't stay asleep like I used to; now it's just a couple of hours at a time. But worst of all, my panic attacks—what drove me to hospice in the first place—are beginning to reappear. They're subtle, for now, and I can only hope they stay that way, but if they should approach anything like what I used to have, I'll be considering their assistance in... well, you know...
18 September 2024. Back online. With eternal gratitude to Bobby, Joe and Ed for their faithful support of my virtual life. Turns out I was installing an official BlueTooth driver provided by HP for my specific machine, when in fact my machine lacked the BT hardware, for reasons no one understands. But the consequence was that the machine got very confused (not unlike like its owner), and since it all happened on a Friday, as such things almost always do, everything took two days longer than normal. Add to that I am entirely dependent on the schedules of others for transportation. Sometimes I'm amazed these things can happen at all! At any rate, I can now spend the better part of the day getting my virtual life back together.
Meanwhile, my weekly nurse visit today brought somewhat distressing news: my blood pressure is way too high, as in so high it made her eyebrows shoot up—a sure sign it's not good. They're going to wait another week or two before doing anything about it, just in case it was an anomaly, especially since blood pressure meds and I don't play well together. It's just one. more. thing.