Mick McKellar Update--Day +90
My own body designated today as a healing day. The weather designated today as a good one to stay inside.
The intrepid walkers risked being blown from the sidewalk on our quick trip to station 9-4 at Rochester Methodist this afternoon. At the time, we were both unaware of the tornado watch and severe thunderstorm warnings. Rarely have I (because of body mass, mostly) felt like a toy to be tossed by the breeze across a lawn or driveway. Down in the steel and glass canyons, the gusts were pushing even me, a leaf before the storm.
Why were we out and about under threatening skies? During this morning's body check, Marian discovered some unusual bruising on the side of my left calf. Dark patches appeared and the skin seemed indented. So, as protocol demands, she called the hospital and they scheduled the time for my visit: 1:30 PM. As we walked/blew into the building, we caught the tail-end of a general announcement putting the staff on emergency alert. I think the nurse on duty was rather surprised to see us there, considering the weather.
Although the appearance of the dark patches did not pose any threat or problem (they didn't hurt or grow larger), the nurse was glad we checked it out. Mostly, they are concerned with bruises forming blood clots in the legs that break loose and wreak havoc on the way to, and arrival at the heart. It was the shortest visit I have made to the hospital, ever.
By now, of course, we knew what was up with the weather, and scurried (in slow Mick motion, of course) back to the transplant house, arriving only minutes before the rain. We sat on the veranda for awhile and watched the storm that rolled over Rochester. There was rain, thunder, lightning, and even a little hail, but not enough to send us inside.
Drowsy day...
Not only did I sleep contentedly through most of last night (if logs are contented), I have been drowsing, off and on, for most of the day. I guess the lower dose of the steroids has finally released the hold on my sleep preventer. If one can catch up on lost sleep, I suppose I am trying. Therefore, I figured, why not write a poem about it? Dozer appears below.
The evening hours are bright and sunny, putting the memories of the storm away with blue skies, puffy white clouds, and only a slight breeze.
Thanks for all your communications.
God bless and good night.
Mick
And now: Dozer
Falling asleep in an easy chair sounds like an every day occurrence, but this has not always been so for me. I rarely napped, and while taking steroid medications in the last month and a half, I required chemical help just to get my eyes closed at night. Today, for some reason, I need help propping up my eyelids.
"Catching up on lost sleep," seems a favorite reason for snoozers worldwide to explain extra hours spent in bed or a long afternoon nap on a comfortable sofa. I don't know if I can catch up on over sixty years of sleeping only four to five hours a night, but I do know that I'd rather not start just now.
Mick
Dozer
I thought that sleep lost, was lost forever,
A leaf on the river gone to the sea.
That doesn't stop my body, however,
From trying to find the slumber for me.
Despite my best efforts to stay awake,
Though snugly ensconced in my easy chair,
I then come back to myself with a shake,
And realize I have been snoozing there.
At first this left me annoyed and upset,
Nodding right off, at the drop of a hat.
It seems, I need all the sleep I can get;
I guess I'll just have to get used to that.
The body has simple wisdom to share:
When tired, find rest, any time, anywhere.
Mick McKellar
May 2011