Hello And Goodbye For The Last Time
(EDITOR’s NOTE: This was posted last night. We are leaving it on top of TMV until 12 noon EST today.)
This is the last column of my life. The ugly sapping of my physical and mental strengths have overwhelmed me in my ordeal of fighting 4th stage lung cancer and colon cancer. The ravages of 30 years of diabetes has not helped. And the colon surgery has not been scheduled yet.
A ultra-high dosage of radiation treatment on two lung tumors and the lymph glans ended Jan. 24. I return Feb. 22 for a series of scans to determine results. It was the best 18 days I have functioned in months for all the wrong reasons. A small .4mg dosage of steroids masked the blahs. That was the last time I wrote, walked and lived reasonable the good life.
Some posts reflected convoluted thinking. Others nailed what I tried to portray. The steroid juices are drained and I am hushed.
The colon surgeon is weighing all the vitals assessing my chances of surviving open surgery. He said I was extremely high risk without putting a silly number on it. If surgery is performed I die or survive. The best news would be off the ventilator in 24 hours but it could extent two weeks if a breathing devise into my throat allows me to breath independently. No promises. Then it is off to a physical therapy hospital for two to three months.
Right now I am in survivor mode. I need home care help 8 hours a day which is in the works and no idea when it kicks in. My son bathes me. My housekeeper buys and preps meals. I have no appetite. I have no desire to screen the Internet. Nor write. Nor watch TV. Nor read.
I have told my brothers to call at their own risks. It takes effort to answer the phone from bed. If I am up, a less gruff response.
And yet the human spirit remains. My goal is to spring back to a quality of life with the help of the physical therapy.
And to knock your socks off with a column of a miracle, yes, but a resolve to survive.
To all my family, friends and TMV readers, God bless.