Mick McKellar Update--Day +54
The frigid blast blowing past our window shakes and quakes the limbs of the skeletal trees, casting faint shadows on the walls of our room. My sweater and lap robe are endeavoring to warm the chill from my bones. Marian and I walked the seven city blocks to the hospital this morning and back this afternoon. The 28 MPH NW wind combs through the canyons downtown searching for the smallest chink in your armor -- and finds them all of course.
Mayo Clinic is closed on weekends, therefore the shuttle services that ferry patients to and fro are also out of service. Travel is by taxi, a friend with a car, or by shanks mare. We chose to walk mainly because I must exercise my legs -- a week out of service in a hospital bed. They grudgingly completed their task and are now resting just above my ankles and below my hips.
The daily hospital visits are for blood tests, IV injection of steroids, and a longer lasting form of insulin to help keep my blood glucose levels within safe limits (steroids always send my blood sugar into meltdown mode). So far, the doctors seem pleased with my recovery and my blood chemistry has not suffered too badly from treatments for the GVHD.
Finding Normal?
I fear I will pull a muscle from trying to pat myself on the back. We did indeed walk to and from the hospital today, but upon my return and beginning to write this journal note, I have already dozed off twice and felt the pull of gravity a little more than usual. My body remembers feeling hale and well before January 2010 and I think it yearns to feel that way again. However, there has already been more than a year and two months of some tough wear and tear and some unusual modifications (little or no immune system and now powered by Kevin's T-cells) to accommodate.
I am not who I was, nor am I who I will be...I am simply becoming me.
Grasping the concept of mixing all my memories and mirrors and dreams and shadows and hopes and regrets with this fragile and alien being tapping on his ancient laptop remains a minute-by-minute journey of wonder. All the odd sensations, the sudden sickness, the myriad pills and creams and liquids (and stinky medications) extend the mystery of change. Each day, each new gift from God brings more change.
Tough on others
As I change and cope with change, those around me, especially Marian meet someone a little bit different every day. We are all the sum of our experiences, mixed up with our basic selves and change brought by our loved ones. Surviving so much upheaval requires outside help and that help comes from God and from your prayers and support for us.
Thanks for the cards, e-mails, calls, communications and good thoughts. We are truly castaway on a sea of change in a paper boat. You truly help us keep that paper dry and afloat.
God bless you all,
Mick