Mick McKellar Update--Day +55
The dancing sunlight in the blue skies is lying to me. The sky is an appropriate ice blue this afternoon, for despite the brilliance of the sun, the air is frigid and the wind stiff enough to drop the wind chill by 10 degrees. Greenery and flowers are trying to cope with a blue spring here.
As Marian and I navigated the steel, stone, and glass canyons to and from Rochester Methodist this morning, I was buried deep within my winter parka, seeking asylum from the frigid wind. There was a momentary twinge of guilt as I remembered that folks back in the Keweenaw were more likely slogging through heavy wet snow, but that soon passed as I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
What's up Doc?
We met with the outpatient doctor immediately upon arrival. I was expecting more golden news, but sometimes you get tin, you know. My creatinen is up a point again, despite drinking water for two and passing enough for three. More than likely, I am experiencing side effects of the steroids, but there is room for uncertainty, and the doctor wants to call in an endocrinologist because of the steroid effects on my blood sugar levels. I have dreaded the possibility of testing my own blood and handling insulin -- mainly because with my shaking hands (thank you cyclosporin) I may stab myself anywhere but where I aim.
Purchasing more equipment (tester, strips, insulin pens, etc.) is not high on my current list of favorite thoughts -- especially for a temporary condition brought on my steroid medications. It appears the adventures will continue and will lead where they may.
Palms
Time has been passing here for me, but I find it pools and eddies past in fits and spurts. Staring at the palm frond Marian brought back from mass, I remembered today is Palm Sunday. A small wave of regret and sadness washed over me to have missed the service and celebration of that powerful counterpoint to what will soon follow. The lack of shared worship and participation in those ancient mysteries remains a loss I endure as the progress of my inner changes pull me deeper into myself.
My focus continues to burn inwards as my own changes dominate our lives, yet ancient celebrations and world turmoil surge onward outside my solitary universe.
And I wonder...
Do so many others escape into fantastic worlds of social interaction or nearly complete isolation by electronics from fear of the mass storm of change and upheaval worldwide? I watch the news with trepidation and frustration and concern for my children and grandchildren. Even as my own little world rocks and rolls from medical challenges and personal change, and I must seek guidance to navigate even those internal shifts in time and tide, I wish to reach out to family and friends and learn how they are coping with a world that refuses to settle down or make sense. But then...
I must admit, at times it can be almost comforting to focus on personal challenges and put the angst and circus of the world at large into a small, but noisy bag in the corner of my mind. Yet, the noise remains, the bag remains, the world remains a factor in my life whether I want it or not.
My only defense has been to live each day as a true gift and to pray fervently that God has a place for me each day, whether it is focused on paper-thin skin (from steroids), medical challenges, or occasionally on an item from the daily news.
Your prayers for us, your light-hearted stories and e-mails, your cards and calls, your caring and sharing power my healing and give me hope for each tomorrow the Lord has given me. Thank you so much.
God bless,
Mick