On Tuesday morning, March 4, I had trouble getting out of bed. I could not get my feet on the floor. I was also experiencing extreme shortness of breath. I realized that I was weak, causing my disconnect with my legs. I decided the best option was to fall out of bed which I orchestrated without injury. My voice was weak, but I called out for Jane. She eventually heard me and called the paramedics. They came and did their oversee and suggested strongly that I go to the hospital and get checked out. Thus began my six days in Salem Hospital.
Now here I am, on Sunday morning, March 16 at home sitting in front of my computer, wondering what I have to share, or talk about. It has been a week since my hospitalization. Yes, a week in the hospital ought to be good for something. I was rushed by ambulance with a possible diagnosis of sepsis as I had a fever, weakness and struggling to breathe.
When I arrived at the hospital, there was a team of doctors and nurses waiting to check me over. It didn’t take long for them to diagnose that I did not have sepsis but most likely, pneumonia. They weren’t really sure what was going on. However, for the moment, and most of my week in the hospital they treated me for pneumonia. This is even after my X-ray did not show any markings for pneumonia.
They threw a lot of steroids and other meds at me which eventually wore down whatever infection was invading my being.
If I didn’t have pneumonia, what was going on inside my body? Two days after I was home, I had an appointment with my primary care doctor. He was adamant that I did not have pneumonia but more likely, congestive heart failure (CHF). I was diagnosed with CHF and COPD back in 2007 when I had my heart attack. CHF is a condition where the heart muscle is unable to pump blood effectively enough to meet the body’s needs. This leads to a buildup of fluid in the lungs (pulmonary edema) and other parts of the body. I do carry a lot of edema in my legs. Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) is a group of lung diseases that cause ongoing inflammation and damage to the airways and lungs, leading to breathing difficulties.
Since childhood I have always suffered from severe asthma. I grew out of it in middle school until I was 50 years old when it resurfaced. I grew up in a smoker’s household so have always had shortness of breath. When the asthma resurfaced (at 50 years old), I saw a pulmonologist, and his first question was how long I had been smoking. I said, “I’ve never smoked, but grew up in a smoker’s household.” He informed me that I had the lungs of a 90 year old. So, shortness of breath has been an ever-present daily part of my being.
I arrived home on a Monday evening March 10, after six days of hospital incarceration, with a home oxygen tank. “Use it when you are active or need a snort,” they said. I must say, it does make it easier to breathe.
Since my hospital visit, I have had no body pain of any kind, a result of course, of the download of steroids. That medication is starting to wear off as last night I was awakened at 3am with my knee pulsating with pain. I can hardly wait for the same to return to my hips, back, shoulders and fingers. All of this happens under the umbrella of multiple myeloma which I have carried since 2017. Oral chemo tablets have helped keep the myeloma at bay. After a two-year cycle of no chemo, I resumed chemo in late December of 2024 as my control numbers were starting to spike. They stopped my chemo tabs while in the hospital and have yet to resume them. The chemo runs a cycle of 21 days on tabs, 7 days off. I was in the middle of my 21-day cycle when it was discontinued. I will talk to my oncologist in two weeks to see where we go from here.
I have no designs that I will be healed or relieved from this medical issue. My wish from here out is only to manage the discomfort and the pain. I am 80 years old and understand that this body of being is finite and disposable. Parts and places wear out. So be it. It’s as if there is a stamp on each of us that says, “best used before such and such a date.” This does not mean that we can’t expire before said date. Free will, mother nature, and someone else’s stupidity can cause our transition before the expiration date. I am not afraid of my expiration date. I have transitioned many times before. My bags are packed, sitting by the spiritual front door.
“I am not afraid of my expiration date. I have transitioned many times before. My bags are packed, sitting by the spiritual front door.”
There may be some of you who would choose to pray for me and a miracle healing. Please don’t. The miracle is already in place via the grace of the many doctors who have cared for me and the medications I have taken over the last eighteen years since my heart attack that have kept me alive with a modicum of quality of life. If you have the need to pray for me do so by asking that I continue to walk in the Light of Spirit and offer kindness and compassion to all who cross my path. Also, patience would be a good thing. My tolerance for my ongoing physical limitations does not bode well with my ego. It always wants convenience and given the nature of my current physical situation, ego does not always like what convenience becomes but wants what it used to be.
“What it used to be.” This sort of plays on the notion of the good ole days, doesn’t it? I have never wanted to go back to the “good ole days.” Why? Things may have been different and even been better back in the so called “good ole days.” However, I like where my mindset is now and where Spirit continues to open new vistas for me to experience being within the framework of my current limitations.
I can assuredly say that I am very comfortable in my own skin. I choose joy and still seek and find joy daily. Of course, the bar for joy gets a little lower every day. Simple tasks, a phone call, text, a meme or coffee with a friend. Yet, my greatest ongoing joy is knowing that my partner, Jane, over the last 60+ years, continues to stand beside me and put up with my comportment of foibles. She may be in her study, but there is a ‘knowing’ I have that she is present. It feels complete and I honor the joy.
Likewise, I have been given the gift to be a father to two daughters. This was (still is) the best job I ever had. They have strength and wisdom beyond their years and I relish their personal sensitivities that bring joy when they often come to visit or touch base with a text or phone call.
The second-best job I ever had was being able to help nurture and raise my grandson, Dylan. He brings joy to my life. When I think about him, I smile and get joy bumps all over.
I have a second grandson by my daughter’s marriage. I have found joy in watching him grow and mature, but must confess I do not know him well. I see him only on holidays, birthdays, etc., and the conversation is fairly superficial. However, he is my grandson, and I accept him as such.
I also have a sister who cares for me in the way only a sister could. Her generosity and sensitivities are part of my weekly routine via shower, coffee, music and study. Joy behold!
Add to this a bevy of friendships that continue to nurture and comfort me – yes, joyfully.
So you see, I am a rich, blessed man, surrounded by joy with no regrets to wish for the good ole days. I look forward to what lies ahead, not in the sense of a future existence, but in the sense of living in the present moment fully.
I ran across this statement by Stacie Martin:
I would simply add to that, to be right here with myself is to be in the divine presence of Spirit. In one sense, Me, Myself and I are the Divine trinity within me that nurtures my soul moment by moment. I am eternally grateful for that. Seems to me, there is no better place to be.
Blessings!
