New Page 1

RETURN to Current Updates RETURN to Archives Page

July 2, 2007 Today was a good day! My breathing seemed a bit better today and, I got the report from the blood test and the results were normal, i.e., no pancreatitis. So I can go ahead with the new drug, Imuran, if I choose (see entry below). I'm going to see my oncologist, Dr. S., tomorrow and will talk to him about it before making the decision. It can have some nasty side effects, including "life threatening" ones but, so does cancer. Seems like a coin flip?? Anyhow, I'm not going to start it, if I do, until after the 4th of July. We have a bunch of folks coming over for a little 4th of July get together. I'm just going to enjoy the day and deal with all this other stuff later.

Maria and I got up at o'dark-thirty this morning and did a bunch of yard work and chores. Maria worked her little tail off in the yard while I putzed around doing things that require little thinking and a minimum of oxygen. This afternoon, Maria headed out shopping and my daughter, Lynn, came over today and spent the afternoon with me working and talking. She worked and I talked. Actually, we had a fun time together as always. She's a sweetie! Rob and Paula stopped by with a big load of fireworks for the 4th that they got at an Indian Reservation up north. Gosh, I hope they aren't illegal?

July 4th, 2007 I'm off line today celebrating. Will report on yesterday's visit with the Oncologist on Thursday. Will John or won't John take the new medication - Imuran?? Tune in tomorrow for the next exciting installment of "Better Living Through Chemistry." Have a Great, Safe 4th!

July 5, 2007 Yesterday was a fun day filled with lots of family, good friends, good food, and fireworks. After the fireworks the finger count remained even and no fire departments or Sheriff's Deputies were involved thanks to the good work of Michael, Garth, and Rob. By the time we finished the fireworks last night, both Maria and I were exhausted. Maria because she worked so hard all day long getting ready and me because....well, just because. See Maria's Musings for more on the party and some pictures!

So tomorrow I'm going to start taking the new medication, Imuran. When we met with Dr. S., on Tuesday, his feeling was that we should go ahead with the pulmonologist's recommendation. He said we are doing a balancing act here. Weighing the risks of the side effects of the medication against my quality of life, which is currently being pretty much dictated by the lung condition (BOOP) and the effects of the high Prednisone doses. This new medication, if effective on me, would allow them to again begin reducing the Prednisone dosage. He feels the tumors are behaving themselves sufficiently right now that they don't need immediate chemo treatment. We can "spot weld them with radiation" and do the chemo once I begin to make some progress again on the lungs and get a bit of health back. In fact, he can only treat me under those conditions. Right now, based on the way I feel, I don't think I could tolerate any more chemo anyhow. In addition to other uses and side effects, the new med is a strong immunosuppressant used to prevent organ rejection in transplant patients. Therefore I will need to be even more cautious regarding possible infections. There is also slight risk of "interstitial pneumonitis" which is what got me in the first place. I'm not sure I could wade my way through another round of that stuff? So, it's a little bit scary over here at the old Palensky Pizzeria and Peccary Farm, but in the immortal words of John Wayne, "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Both Maria and I think I "gotta" do this.

July 7, 2007 I'm still trying to recover from the all the great food I pounded down on July 4th. I swore I'd never eat again but that didn't last long. Yesterday I took my first "poison pill" as I call it (Imuran). At least there was no immediate reaction but you wouldn't expect that from a pill. Whatever it's going to do to me will likely take some time. I had a miserable night last night, waking up as usual about 3:30 in a lot of pain. When I do that, it always wakes Maria up and I worry that she doesn't get the rest she needs. I've offered to sleep in the other bedroom but she's not having any of it. It's weird that it seems to bother me most in the early evening and then again in the very early morning. None of the doctors can figure out what's going on.

Tomorrow we are taking John McCollister's boat from Tomahawk Island in Portland down to Ilwaco, WA where it will be moored and waiting for us to ply the ocean for a salmon or two later this month and August. It's a 27-footer. Garth Griffin and Scott Rumsey are going as well. I estimate it will take about 5 hours to do the 100 or so miles (I hope my oxygen tanks will hold out that long). I've always wanted to see the whole Columbia between Portland and the mouth so it will be a fun trip for me. Maybe we will discover some new secret fishing holes.

July 9, 2007 Well, we did the Big Adventure yesterday. John Mc C., Garth G. and I took John's boat down the Columbia from Portland to Ilwaco. We got off to a rocky start, since none of were exactly sure of the start up procedure. Too many damn levers and buttons and no power. We finally discovered that there were two battery shut off switches that needed turning on. The next problem was that when the company that installed the two new engines and put the boat back in the water, they left the key to only one of the engines. Maria and Bonnie had to drive over to John's nephew's place and retrieve another key. John, Garth, and I were were getting pretty "keyed up" about the whole thing (sorry). Once we got everything running, we still needed gas since we weren't sure we could make the 105 miles on less than half a tank. So our planned start of no later than 10:00 turned into a 12:30 departure from the gas dock. But what a beautiful day - sunny skies and low 80's. We were also helped along much of the way by an outgoing tide and encountered only light west winds for most of the day. When we got close to the coast the winds picked up and, with the outgoing tide being curled up by the NW winds, we had a pretty bouncy ride in some stretches. It took us about 5 hours to make the trip. But we made it and deemed the whole thing a great success as measured by our standard yardstick, namely "that no one was seriously injured."

The most arduous part of the journey for John and me was the 15 mile walk from the slip where the boat is moored to the parking lot (okay, maybe it's only 12 miles but it was uphill). I was sucking on that oxygen bottle like a tick on a hound and had to sit and rest every 40 yards or so. Arghhh. John's wife, Bonnie, and his mom, Donna, drove down to Ilwaco and retrieved the weary crew of the "Pakalolo" and they dropped me off, exhausted, at 9:00 p.m. Best night's sleep last night that I've had in a long time. I have posted some additional pictures of the trip on a separate page. If you'd like to see them, click here Columbia River Cruise Pictures. Hmmm, why does the theme from Gilligan's Island keep replaying in my head? A three hour tour.........

July 11, 2007 The Dog Days of Summer! Forecast: hot yesterday, today, and tomorrow. These are not good days for the "hard of breathing." Yesterday I went to the clinic about 9:00 for my Coumadin check, came home, and promptly fell asleep in the truck in the driveway. I woke up at 11:00 and spent most of the rest of the day inside where it stayed a comfortable 73 degrees. I seem to be having quite a bit of pain lately associated with the broken rib, tumors, or whatever. It's really unpredictable, too. One day I hurt like hell and the next I might feel fine. I hate taking Vicodin, but resorted to it last night to relieve the pain a bit and get some rest. Either the increased Prednisone dose (60 mg) or the new drug (Imuran) is having an effect on me. I'm jittery, moody, and getting weaker than a cat. It's hard to tell whether it's my breathing that's the problem or whether I'm just so weak that I get out of breath easily. That being said, I find that I feel pretty good today - much better than yesterday. But I don't know whether it's because of pain management or real improvement? I'll take it either way. Maybe I just have to learn to accept the bad days for what they are and revel in the moment of the good ones. I need to do that, if for no other reason than because the bad days are maybe harder on Maria than on me. She wants to make everything better but can't and then, on top of that, I'm whining, groaning, crying, grousing, and fussing around and looking for a dog to kick. Since we don't have a dog, and barely have a cat of any sort, Maria often has to bear the brunt of my frustrations - even though they aren't meant for her. But we talk a lot about it and both understand what's going on within each of us and that makes it okay.

John thinks he’s so hard to live with, but really he is remarkably well-balanced, considering what he has to put up with constantly. I’m actually glad we’re both human enough to experience tiredness and frustration occasionally. We are both committed to accepting whatever is real in the moment, but not inviting negative thoughts to a place at our table. They drop in and pass through and we wave them off like the flight crew on Saturday Night Live, “B-BYE!”

Still, the constant and unexplained pain has been a big challenge for us both lately. John because he has to endure it and me because there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to help. I had to be in Portland for several meetings and appointments yesterday. Knowing he was having a pain-filled day, it was very hard for me to be away from home. So far, though, the bad days come and go. Just about the time I think I should probably be calling one of the doctors to see if all this pain is to be expected, he wakes up and feels better, like he did today. We started out with lots of plans for a busy day, but they all changed and we ended up vegging on the couch this afternoon, just the two of us, watching movies and keeping cool. I got a couple of hours in on my sculpture, too. Life is good!

July 14, 2007 What a terrible Friday night I had! After feeling pretty much okay most of the day, I started to hurt about 9:00 p.m., which seems to be becoming a nightly ritual. I can't explain why, but in the evening my several tumors start to hurt, as well as my lower back. Sometimes I get what I believe is a back-related headache as well. Normally the pain is tolerable or can be fairly well managed with a minimum of Tylenol, Vicodin, or a combination of the two. Upon going to bed last night I took a Tylenol and a Vicodin. But the pain kept worsening - getting to the point where I took another 1/2 of Vicodin. Still no relief. Maria talked me through it with a deep breathing exercise where I just focused on on air in, air out, relax. This helped and after 10-15 minutes I dozed off. However, even as I slept I was aware of the pain, finally waking up at a little after midnight in full out, head on misery. I took yet another Vicodin and Maria and I did the breathing thing again for 15 minutes. Eventually I went to sleep again and managed to stay asleep until 6:00 this morning.

I'm not sure what to make of all this? The new medicine, Imuran, can cause muscle and joint pain so that could be at least part of it. Also though, the Prednisone is again contributing substantially to muscle deterioration which I expect is what makes me feel so weak all the time. It might be that the muscles are just rebelling at having to do so much with with so little? Then, it's also difficult to track my breathing capabilities separately from the effects of the pain. I know that when I hurt so bad it's difficult to get a good breath. I have some blood tests on Monday and a doctor appointment on Tuesday so I'll take all of this up with him then. But, so far, this evening pain is a puzzlement to him to. Well enough whining I guess. I hope that somehow it gets better, but if not then we will just have to find a way to manage through it. I don't know what I'd do without Maria here to help me and to calm me down when I go into my anxious mode.

July 15, 2007

July 16, 2007 Well, Maria and I had another ugly night with me going to bed in terrible pain, finally getting to sleep, and then waking up with it the second time. Maria, of course, stays awake during these times, ministering to me, making suggestions, and helping me to breath the pain away. I finally drift off and sleep fitfully, concerned that the slightest movement might bring it back for another round, depriving us of several more hours of sleep. Finally, morning comes and I know that if I can just muster the energy to get dressed and go eat something, then I will likely be mostly pain free for the rest of the day. Maria took me to the Battle Ground Clinic to have blood drawn to check all my levels after 11 days on the new drug, Imuran. I forgot to get drawn for Coumadin at the same time - Oops! The docs will take a look at the levels tomorrow and decide whether to stop it, keep it the same, or increase the dose. I've also requested a chest x-ray so we can see if my lung function has deteriorated, which I suspect has by all other measures. I can pull my oxygen saturation down from 94% to 79% in about 20 steps.

On a much happier note, Rod Sando came over for a visit this morning. Rod and I worked together when he was Executive Director of the Columbia Basin Fish and Wildlife Authority. Prior to that he was Director of Idaho Department of Fish and Game and head of the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources. Rod is an highly accomplished resource manager and political strategist (which all fish and wildlife folks must be these days to survive). So we sat on the deck on a beautiful Monday and passed some time identifying key regional fish and wildlife issues, fingering the guilty, and proposing resolutions for all of the Columbia Basin's Fish and wildlife problems. We mostly did that before lunch, which left us time to reminisce about a world that existed 40 years ago as well as detail our plans for future adventures after lunch. I am always amazed at the clarity a couple of old retired pharts can bring to complex issues in such a short time. Thank you, Rod, for making the trek to Battle Ground and sharing your insights and time with me.

July 18, 2007 We had an appointment with Dr. S., the Oncologist, yesterday regarding the recurring nightly pain problem. As a result, he put me on a regimen of Oxycodone and Oxycontin, which is a step up from the Vicodin, although it's at a pretty low dosage. I tried it last night and got some relief, but not what I'd hoped for - I ended up with about 4 hours sleep in all. But I took some more this morning, when I could, and this time took the edge off and added another hour or so of nap. Today at 11:30 I go to see the Pulmonologist. This is where I find out how my lungs are faring and how my blood is holding up under the new medication. I'm quite concerned that my breathing is no better and perhaps worse. Then what? I am so weak from the Prednisone now that it's getting difficult for me to get out of a chair or walk unassisted. I fear he might want to up the Prednisone some more but, honestly, I don't know how much longer I can tolerate these high levels.

UPDATE: Just got back from Dr. B's (Pulmonologist). I think I've got him stumped. My spirometer test was worse than last time and my x-ray was at best, the same, and perhaps slightly worse. So he doesn't think the Imuran is doing the job and he's very concerned about the side effects from the high Prednisone dose. So on to Plan B (or is it Plan H?). He wants me to stop the Imuran immediately and is starting me on a different drug called Cytoxan (which I think translates from the Greek and Latin to "cell poison" - cool!). It's even more aggressive than the Imuran. It's not supposed to have all the painful side effects but is a lot higher in the "barf your guts up" category, since it's also used as a chemo drug, in higher doses. Then we will come down fairly aggressively on the Prednisone dose. I asked him, "But what if the BOOP gets worse?" I don't remember his exact words but the gist of it was, "Well, er, uhm, b-b-b-b, ah, crap." That kind of response tends to make me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. So, tomorrow I will embark on the next great adventure with a glimmer of hope that, one morning soon, I will awaken and breathe more deeply and more easily than the night before.

Son Jeff, daughter-in-law Vanessa, and her mom and dad, who are visiting from Minneapolis, are coming down tomorrow to spend a day or two with us. We haven't seen Vanessa's folks in some time and are looking forward to hangin' with them. Also, another big milestone tomorrow - I'm signing up for Social Security - before it's all gone! Remember to breathe deeply.

July 20, 2007 Some days it seems what can go wrong, will go wrong. The new medication (Cytoxan) that Dr. B. wants me to take wasn't available at my usual and accustomed pharmacy so we've had to search around for it. Seems nobody stocks it - Hmm, could it be expensive? The hospital pharmacy finally got hold of a bit of it and Maria just left to go and pick it up. We called Dr. B. this morning regarding this little delay problem and the fact that my breathing seems to still be deteriorating. Since I couldn't get the new med yesterday, we wanted to know if we should up the Prednisone dosage in the meantime. He said to bump it up to 80 mg. I need to get the lungs back on track - and soon! I'm really hoping this Cytoxan will do the job because we're starting to run a bit low on options. However, the new painkiller regimen seems to be doing the job and I think Maria and I have just about got it nailed with a minimum of pills and a maximum of relief - knock on wood. The doctors have also scheduled me for another scan next week and possibly a bronchioscopy.

Jeff and Vanessa and Vanessa's parents, Mike and Yvonne, arrived yesterday afternoon. Mike and Yvonne are from Minneapolis and are here on vacation for a week or so. They are a lot of fun and, surprisingly, they even seem to like Jeff. We spent a very enjoyable afternoon out in the yard visiting and playing "Washers," the highly physical game that's sweeping the nation. We (as in Jeff) then BBQ'd some rib eye steaks and had dinner outside on the deck. This morning we lazed a bit, had breakfast, and then played "Blockus," another game that's sweeping the nation - not quite as physically challenging though. Jeff won, of course, since he explained (made up?) the rules as we played. Even Mike's attempts at cheating couldn't unseat the Master. So, as I write this, Maria is out picking up the wayward medicine, the kids, Mike, and Yvonne went for a walk down our street, and I sit here alone, apparently shunned, abandoned, and forlorn. . . . After an interminably long time, everyone returned and we adjourned to the studio where our creativity cups "ranneth" over and everyone made a small sculpture of some kind. Jeff really got into it and is still out there putting the eyes on his octopus. I made a snowman.

July 23, 2007 (CAUTION - RANT FOLLOWS!) I had a lot of trouble breathing again yesterday and today, as well I seem to be losing lung capacity when I do my spirometer test. And that's not good. When Maria called the Pulmonologist today he wanted me to go to the hospital. I deferred until tomorrow. Since he has ICU duty this week, it's the only way he can see me and he apparently feels he needs to. He's still toying with the idea of doing the bronchoscopy I guess. At this point I'm all - "whatever!" Although the last, well almost the last, thing I want to do is log in more hospital time. I put some caveats on it this time though: 1) Only if they can get me a 10 cc per minute O2 room where someone in the next bed isn't dying of pneumonia, flesh-eating bacteria, TB, Malaria, or some other fun stuff, and 2) That I don't want a special diet designed to keep me hardy and healthy for the next 20 years. I frankly don't give a damn about my cholesterol, the inverted food pyramid, a low calorie, low salt diet, red meat, or any other of that crap. Once I can take a deep breath again, then I'll start self-actualizing. End of Rant.

So, it looks like in I go again. That will be much better for Maria, since maybe then she can get a decent night's sleep. I'm up half the night gasping for air, and having panic attacks and she's right there with me, comforting me, reassuring me, and helping me to focus my breathing on "blowing the little boat on the horizon ever farther out to sea and then inhaling the fresh, salt air as I listen to the seagulls call." (Yes, you might call it "meditation;" John and I practice breathing together in the mornings when we wake up and are already relaxed. Then, when he's in pain or struggling to breathe, we use it to help calm his body down. I talk him through a visualization of a tiny boat far, far out on the horizon line. As he exhales, he sends each breath farther and farther, blowing the little boat ever farther away, while he feels the waves under his own boat, smells the salt air, and listens to the seagulls call. It seems to help and, within a few minutes, his breathing gets more comfortable and the pain subsides.)

When I went into atrial fibrillation (heart rate would jump between 50 and 180 wildly) last night, we even called my two favorite paramedics (Jeff and Vanessa) for a freebie consult. Their advice was to take 2 aspirin and call them in the morning - just kidding. They reassured me that I wasn't going to die during the night and that it should be gone by morning. If not, then I should call 911 and get them to take care of it. After that, and some more deep breathing, I managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours, awakening only once more. But none of the awakenings were accompanied by the severe pain I'd been having during such episodes - - - and that, my friend, was a good thing!

July 24, 2007 OFF LINE To the 4 or 5 of you who feel obligated to look in on me and see what's going on, I will be off line for at least a day or two. I'm going into the hospital in a couple of hours for some observation, tests, and to finish paying for the wing I'm building. Dr. B. might do a bronchioscopy. Drs. S. and B. have teamed up on a PET Scam....er,.. Scan on Thursday. Who knows from there? They could send me home or keep me around a bit more. At any rate, it's unlikely I will be posting here directly, but I'm sure Maria will keep you informed. She tends to give more of the straight scoop anyhow, without all the attempts at humor, and puts in more touchy-feely stuff.

July 24, 2007 Later in the day When I left John a little bit ago, the doctors had been in to see him and he was scheduled for a CT scan tonight and a bronchoscopy tomorrow. There are risks surrounding the bronchoscopy, especially if his O2 levels drop too far, but his lungs are in better condition than they were when he had that procedure done in February. If his oxygen levels do drop too much during the procedure (tomorrow at 1 PM) they'll put him in ICU for a couple of days, like they did last time. I have faith that he'll be OK and that the new Cytoxan will start working so he can get weaned off the Prednisone. Dr. B said that if the bronchosopy doesn't show any additional infection, then they will try raising the Cytoxan dose more quickly and also lowering the Prednisone dose a little at a time. Dr. S read us a couple of the very few studies available where Cytoxan was used with BOOP, but the results were apparently good for those studies, so we are hopeful.

John is very tired, as we slept downstairs last night and neither of us slept well or for long. He was falling asleep as the docs and nurses interviewed him today. I've been going on adrenaline, but am starting to flag, so instead of going back to the hospital, I'm going to try and get some sleep tonight so he can, too. I'll be there tomorrow, though. Will put an update here after he comes through the bronchoscopy. Emails to John will be printed and carried in to him when I go in, so send 'em early! ;-)

July 26, 2007 I hardly know how to say this. The results of John's CT scan show that he still has BOOP in his right lung and that the cancer has metastasized into his lungs and his liver. This is the cause of the breathing difficulty he has suffered the past two weeks. Dr. B canceled the bronchoscopy, and I'm glad John didn't have to go through with that, but he did remove about 600 ccs of fluid from John's left lung, relieving a lot of pressure and making John more comfortable. Dr. S came in later to discuss options and John is deciding whether or not he wants to chance a last stand chemo treatment, risk the biologic pills we had considered back in February, or let Mother Nature take her course. I stayed with him last night and he got the best night's sleep he's had in weeks. He's breathing easier and the pain is under control, for which I am grateful.

Lynn and Michael came to visit yesterday and Jeff will be arriving today to stay for a few days. John is coming home today, if we can get a hospital bed delivered in time. The studio is standing ready! John will want to see people, I am sure, so our doors are open for visiting (unless you have an infection he could catch).

July 26th Later in the day John is home now and feeling pretty darn good, considering! He's out visiting with Jeff and Vanessa and enjoying the waning shadows of a most beautiful day. Dr. S came in this morning and asked what John wanted to do about the three choices mentioned earlier. Those of you who have ever played poker with John will not be surprised that John said, "Well, I'm not quite ready to cash it all in yet, so let's try the biologic pills." I am so proud of this man! He will take time to write later, I'm sure, and make it sound like no big deal, but it is a big deal to me! We have signed up with Hospice for help in managing pain and breathing issues, especially at night, and that is a nice kind of security for both of us. More on my musings on my special page. I'll leave it to John to continue here.

July 27, 2007 Dearest friends, buddies, colleagues, and acquaintances, I returned from the hospital Thursday evening after a bunch of tests which, unfortunately, did not reveal very good news. To skip to the bottom line - the cancer has metastasized to both the lungs and liver. You don't need a medical degree to know that that's "not good." So the choices at this point are for a biological option - a pill that at least in Japan has shown that it can be effective on non-smoking, Asian women with adenocarcinoma. If only I were an Asian woman. But I haven't made a decision on that option yet since it's about $80 a pill and carries significant side effects and risks. The other option is to go into Hospice and palliative-type care and see how long a run I can have without all pain, risk, and etc. Surprise! There could even be some insurance issues associated with the options - DUH. They are checking. More on that later.

Maria and I are so sorry to have to serve up this news, but sometimes it happens. We really appreciate all the support you've given us over the last nine months and the many compliments on the website and the info we put on it. Our intention is to continue it as long as possible, but at some point I'm sure the painkillers will rule and I, personally, won't be able to. We want to thank you all, for sticking with us during these tough times. No one could ask for or expect better friends than you. I mean this as a compliment to Maria and me - not to you - since it largely reflects our ability to choose our friends wisely. . .;-)

July 30, 2007 We finally posted John’s recent update. Sorry for the delay. John had been trying to write it since he got home. He did write an email to many friends, fans and supporters, but that took a lot of concentration. It’s because we are trying to achieve a balance with the pain medications so that he is comfortable but still able to focus. It’s a challenge because the pain meds make him very groggy. I’m trying to see what pattern emerges in his pain/energy levels so that we can plan visits with friends and family, as well as the minor business tasks he still wants to finish up, for the times when he is more comfortable and alert. Thus far, the pattern has included varying levels of pain in the mornings, which eventually subside along with the deep grogginess caused by the pain medicines, a good nap between about 3 and 5 in the afternoon, then comfort and energy in the evening.

Of course, since I posted the entry last week, there are many who want to come visit. We want to see everyone, though we hope all will understand that we need to space out the visits. Lynn, Michael, and Jeff have been here every day and nearly every night, plus other visitors. My sister and nephew are coming next weekend. As you can see, there is no shortage of people who want to spend time with John. He wants everyone to know he “isn’t planning on dying this week,” so he hopes there are some folks left who will still want to visit next week!

Sleepy or sassy, he is still far closer to the “living” end of the continuum than the other end! He still amazes me with the grace and good nature he displays in the face of every aspect of this situation, from sheer discomfort to finding the energy to do simple things. Of course the simplest thing, and the one John’s the most gifted at, is loving the friends and family he has gathered around him over the years. He is still the hub of our big wheel and his presence in our lives holds us all together. I still can’t believe my luck in being able to join my life with his.

July 30th 11PM At the moment, John is trying to watch Caddy Shack II, but falling asleep through a lot of it. I think the pain medication got ahead of us today because he was so uncomfortable this morning. During one of his wakeful moments, we decided to hold back a little more on the meds tomorrow and see if that helps. Jim Luce came to visit today, as did the Hospice Nurse, Mary, but neither one got much of John. Michael spent most of the day with John, chatting when John wasn't dozing and helping me with a bunch of the household jobs I never seem to get to anymore. Lynn arrived later and made dinner. What would we do without them?

John and I have talked a little more about the biologic pills and I've talked with Dr. S as well. We are leaving the door open for John to change his mind, but for now no one thinks his lungs are strong enough to chance the worst side-effect of that drug. Personally, I think that medicine has done about enough to him. Every condition he's suffering from now was caused by medical procedures or drugs. Although the doctors have done a lot of good, and certainly had a hand in saving his life last February, we all know that the real reason John is still with us has more to do with his indomitable will to live and the love of his family and friends. I don't know what he'll decide for sure, but I reminded him that choosing not to take the pills is not the same thing as giving up. It's just realizing that at some point you come to the end of science, to paraphrase Albert Einstein, and you reach mystery. We're there.

July 31st Mostly just Musings at the moment . . .