The Blog: Spellbound by our own imperfect lives...

We went to see the cardiologist yesterday for an annual check-up on Regis's heart. He had a triple by-pass procedure done eighteen years ago, has been diagnosed with atrial fibrillation, and most of the time we can forget about all of that. But sometimes, it scares us. The doctor, a very kindly woman, had read all the reports of his pancreatitis and gall bladder and hospitalization. She said the most stunning thing to her was the small cancer they found in the gall bladder. Say what? Cancer in the gall bladder is almost always fatal because by the time a person has symptoms, it has metastasized. It's too late. So, she said, it was a very lucky thing to have this gall bladder issue. That puts a new spin on things. She also said that there was no need to do a stress test. The stress on his heart from pancreatitis, surgery, overloads of pain, high and low blood pressure...was all the test she needs to know his heart is functioning well. Small favors. Today is the first day i

I worked last night. It was the last night of my month long work-a-thon that was interrupted by three hospitals in three different towns. I might not have been the patient but it was difficult just the same. When we came home on Friday and decided to have Easter on Sunday, I had to make a wide swath through the house. I put all of the Regis-related stuff on one bag and all of my stuff in another bag. Now the bags sit here in my office, gathering dust. My goals today are to clean off the dining room table, put the Easter table cloth away, and clean up all the paper we have gathered. Tomorrow we buy groceries and my writing group resumes. I get a hair cut at noon. Tuesday, I go back to my volunteer job at the Treaty Site. Life is getting back to normal. I have worked very hard in my yard in the past week. The garden has been raked. The side yards and the back yard have been raked and the last pick-up load of leaves is waiting to go to the compost site. I have gathered the

I seem to find myself here at the end of the day.So many things happen in one day. I signed up to bring a meal to Kristi and Wes. I don't even want to think about what that might mean. Zaida is out of the hospital and in the Ronald McDonald House. That's not even all of it. Regis and I sit on the patio and the neighbors come by and say hello after the long dark winter. We're all out of our houses, raking our yards, walking bare sidewalks, anxious for summer. Hosta are poking their skinny fingers through the dark dirt. Tulips are being bitten bare by rabbits. Red-winged blackbirds make thier cell-phone like calls from every tree. It's a cacophony. Tomorrow is another busy day. Appointments, work, fun. Life goes on.

Regis had surgery last Tuesday, April 7th, at 5pm. The surgeon said he would be in the hospital for 4-5 days but my husband is a fast healer and he was done with hospitalization so he was sprung Friday morning. No flies on him. It's so good to have him home. The dog was depressed. I was depressed. Woodrow didn't care so much. That's how cats are. I have tried to get him to rest and recover but he is right back to doing laundry. Yesterday, he made bean soup from the Easter ham bone. We got home Friday about noon and decided to have our family Easter celebration on Sunday. Lots to do...shopping, cleaning, baking, organizing. I had doled out most of the side dishes but I want to make desserts. I spent all day Saturday making cut-out cookies, strawberry trifles, and chocolate bird nests. All way to putzy for such a busy time. In the middle of the day, I decided to rake out one corner of my garden because I would much rather make the outside look good than the

I'm writing this from my iPad which is not nearly as user friendly when it comes to composing as my computer. I have to type one-fingered, for one thing, and I can't seem to get the pictures to appear. Ah, well. It's Tuesday evening, day #9 of this adventure. Regis went down to surgery about an hour ago but I haven't heard yet from the Surgical Communicator that he is actually IN surgery. This is a well-oiled machine, everybody has a role. I have walked miles around this hospital. Yesterday, 5.2 and today, 2.5 so far. It's a huge place. I was so tired when I left that I overshot my parking ramp by about two buildings and wound up in some far flung parking lot. I didn't remember the name of the lot where I was parked so it was hard to help me. Eventually I found my way to a place that looked familiar. This afternoon, I retraced my steps to see where I made the mistake. A nice volunteer (They are like ants here.) helped me figure it out. You overhea

Here is the reality of our situation. Regis would hate that I talk so frankly about it but it's what I have to do. The other night, I had an all-out panic attack. A hyperventilating, crazy, sobbing, panic attack. This is what it might be like to live without him in my life. I know people do it all the time. They adjust to the loss of a loved person. I know I could do it. I could learn to fill my car's tank with gas. I could learn the difference between a screw driver and pliers. I could learn how to use spray foam. I just don't want to do it right now. I know I am whining about something, which on the continuum of bad shit that happens to people, is very small. I also know that sometimes small things have a domino effect and the end result is nothing you could foresee. I am home now after a dinner with my friend, Deb. A dinner of french fries, mac and cheese, and bacon wrapped jalapenos. How disgusting. Sometimes poor nutrition is a comfort. I am not packing ton

I am behind on my blog and decided rather than recreating all the drama we have experienced with Regis's gall bladder and pancreas, I would just copy and post those entries here. We are hoping to have this resolved by tomorrow. March 30 After spending four hours in St. Peter's ER, Regis is on his way to the hospital in Mankato. He has an inflamed pancreas and gall stones. At least that's what I think I heard after no sleep and a vending machine meal. I needed Zofran and Dilaudid as much as the patient did. He'll spend a few days in the hospital waiting for the pancreas to simmer down, then will have surgery on one or both organs. You can see Regis has his sense of humor back. Here he is making his best dead face while using his fingers to make Xs on his eyes. He has seen a fleet of doctors: GI doctor, captain of the team, resident of the captain of the team, surgeon, and a few others I can't recall. (One of them looks barely old enough to vote.) We have taken