A wee voice was heard from deep in cyberspace and it said,

by Bella Rum

“I’m still here.” 

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I am loath to write about my health one more time, but it trumps everything else around here. It has dominated our lives for months now. I’m beginning to think this is the new normal. Breathing is better but far from optimum, fatigue has proven to be the biggest challenge, and diagnosis is iffy. They’ve  definitely ruled out COPD.

They seem to have settled on adult-onset asthma, caused by what they now refer to as my perfect storm: the virus (?) that started this nightmare, the antiarrhythmic medication, the bout with pneumonia, etc. Am I convinced? The verdict is still out as far as I’m concerned. They say they can improve my breathing. I keep saying, “Bring it on.”

I don’t blame my doctors. I don’t expect them to be omnipotent and medicine is not an exact science. Sometimes diagnosis is about elimination and sometimes doctoring isn’t about a cure but more about management and quality of life. If I didn’t know these things before, they are certainly being driven home now.100_1868

On a positive note…

My appetite has returned to normal, maybe even less than normal. I think less. I’ve lost 4.5 pounds but don’t get excited. I gained a whopping 11 pounds while taking steroids. Isn’t that insane? It brings to mind the time Irma Bombeck wrote about how women can be sick for days, unable to hold down food or drink, and still gain five pounds.

I continue to see the same steroid-induced pie-face when I look in the mirror, but H claims it’s slowly going back to normal. I don’t believe him. He has an empathy streak, and I think it’s showing itself in his theories about my pie-face. My theory is that the entire 11 pounds went to my face and chin.
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On the weird side…

My taste for wine has left me. Is that the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard? I used to drink a glass of wine before dinner. I enjoyed it. I looked forward to it. No more. I can’t stand the taste. I thought I’d like it again when I finished with the steroids, but no. And coffee doesn’t taste just right either. The other thing is that I no longer wake in the middle of the night with that post middle age angst wherein I hear the Grim Reaper’s raspy breath over there in that shadowy corner.  Gone! I view these changes as positive. I don’t need the caffeine from the coffee or the calories from the wine, and I won’t miss that nasty Grim Reaper one little bit.

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We took a short walk around the neighborhood on one of our two unseasonably warm days last week. It felt wonderful to be outside. That cwazy groundhog better be right, I’m ready for a change.I took my little camera along on the walk. These were the pics.  It appears I’m not the only one with lingering Christmas decorations.

This post is all about me, me, me. My apologies. I promise to write about something more interesting next time…. maybe the effects of climate change on the colonization of fire ants or the life cycle of the fruit fly. Oops, I already did the fruit fly thing, didn’t I? Drat. All the good topics are gone.

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