I’ve been in absentia from the blogosphere of late. My life has been busy and complicated. Old age is catching up with Dad. He’s more forgetful. I try to help, but sometimes feel like a buttinski since my sister the Sister is his primary caregiver. Mostly I keep my mouth shut, smile, and help when I can.
We had to give up our shelties in December. They were contributing to my illnesses. I miss them fiercely, but they have a good home together thanks to KC Sheltie Rescue. The immediate pain of loss has been placated by that. They need to be together..but dammit, sometimes I miss my lil Fergus.
My sarcoidosis is out of remission. I had not been feeling well…a slow, steady decline in my breathing and energy since winter. I am back on prednisone, for a four month taper and all that that entails. Sleeplessness, hot flashes, a voracious appetite (thank you, vegetables), irritability. I could go on, but I shall spare the gentle reader.
I’m scared. I know that I will die of this; pneumonia or some sort of an acute lung failure will be my end. (I love how the docs call it a lung event, like it’s opening night.) My youngest and her Ben are taking this well. They are hoping to get pregnant…we shall see. I’m happy that she has a boys name picked out: Zephaniah Afton. She surprised me with this name…I had no idea that Zephaniah was her favorite book in the Bible. I love how it ends:
“The accumulated sorrows of your exile
I, your God, will get rid of them for you.
You’ve carried those burdens long enough.
At the same time, I’ll get rid of all those
who’ve made your life miserable.
I’ll heal the maimed;
I’ll bring home the homeless.
In the very countries where they were hated
they will be venerated.
On Judgment Day
I’ll bring you back home—a great family gathering!
You’ll be famous and honored
all over the world.
You’ll see it with your own eyes—
all those painful partings turned into reunions!”
(That’s “The Message” transliteration, btw, my fav for personal reading.) Anastasia and me have long phone chats. She’s in a good place. I’m more concerned about my son. We are tight; close as close can be. Our last phone call was quite painful for both of us. Lots of tears and talk of things that really matter, like spouses and friends and family and baseball. He is my hero, and I remind him of that every chance I get.
Tishie’s fractured foot is healing. In seven weeks I won’t be her regular driver anymore. She is so busy with her work and comes home so tired lately. Too too much on call time doesn’t help. She’s the mistress of over-extending herself. I do love doting on my hunnyluv though. I remind her that it’s my happiness to help her feel comfy. It’s in the fine print of our marriage vows.