Skip to main content

When a New Year begins with only whispers of the previous year


 I spent the last 45 days of 2024 suffering with a wee bit of the plague. 

It didn't completely stop me, but it came close. I only briefly came out of my isolation to participate in the Lakeshore Community Chorus' holiday concert, to take care of the world's most adorable bairn and then celebrate his first birthday, to attend Christmas Eve worship, to see the bio-pic of Bob Dylan, celebrate NYE with the previously mentioned adorable grandson and his parents and to have short visits with my daughter from a different mother/father and her adorable daughter. I don't think I missed any 'events'.

After each of these 'events' I then went back to my cocoon (the recliner in the living room, with my blankie and water bottle). There I could cough, sneeze and ache in relative comfort with my tissues, Mucinex and Advil nearby. I also discovered the comfort of an occasional hot toddy.

When there were no signs of improvement, I went to my doctor and she prescribed an antibiotic, more rest, more fluids and more Mucinex (but switch to the DM). That seemed to mostly alleviate the sneezing and lessen the hacking. She prescribed a stronger antibiotic and I can say I am now feeling less-plague-y.

Not yet fully human, but getting closer. In fact, my hours in the cocoon have dropped considerably. 

It seemed like the most-fitting end to 2024, being sick. I spent the first half of the year suffering with various mysterious maladies all seemingly related to dangerously low immunoglobulins (IGs); these included eczema, and frequent UTIs. The drug I had been getting to stabilize my MS has the nasty side-effect of lowering the immune response (a double whammy since MS itself does the same thing). I was infused with IGs in April/May and poof the MMs disappeared. Though the IGs are still low, which could relate to the lingering plague. I am talking with my doc this week to see if I can get another IG boost.

I am grateful that I was fortunate to have the time to rest (thank you Cheryl at the Book Nook of Saugatuck for covering my many missed shifts). Delaney and Nelli really did the lion share of Christmas cooking and helping. I was able to browse online, really taking time to select thoughtful (I hope) gifts for Christmas. And last but not least to John, who wasn't feeling well either for most of the time, made me hot toddys and made sure I got to where I needed to be if I needed to be somewhere, and took care of me too.

2025 I pray the lingering whispers of 2024's illnesses are silenced soon and that is a good portent for the rest of the year.





Comments

  1. You are an inspiration to so many! ❤️

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Old? Infirm?

A friend sent this article to me today: Are you Old? Infirm? I can relate. Though  I'm not old - despite what the three-year-olds in my Sunday school class say. And I am not infirm - and I'll wack over the head with my cane anyone, repeat anyone , that would call me that. I resemble Nancy in the article. She calls herself crippled. And Mr. Bruni wrote, " I confessed that I cringed whenever she called herself “crippled,” which she does, because she values directness and has a streak of mischief in her." I prefer the term 'gimp' and have also had others cringe when I say that. I like the term they arrived at "limited" but it's not perfect - maybe just a little more politically correct. I have felt that diminishment when in my wheelchair. But being a tad feisty and Irish, I fight that with every ounce of my being. My personality has always been a little on the large side and not very quiet or shy, so I make it a challenge to 'be see...

holding on for dear life

  Tuesday was cool, the morning especially. And while working at the Book Nook I saw people dressed for two seasons -summer and fall. Lots of plaids, flannel and boots or booties worn by customers that I assumed were anxious for fall. Not me. I'm holding on to summer for dear life. I wore a sleeveless dress, sandals and a cotton sweater. I mean here in Michigan we will be donning those fall duds and not showing skin again for at least eight months. And while I'm not good at a math, I know that eight months is most of the year. According to my calculator that's 66 percent of the year (66.666667 to be exact - my math 094 professor at MSU would be impressed that I knew that if I'd done it myself. But I'm smart enough to use a calculator to come up with that - like I used to tell her every class "we don't need to know how to do that, we can just use a calculator". Pretty sure I wasn't her favorite).  Boy did I digress with that walk down memory lane. A...

Treatment begins

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today is the day I begin, at last, treatment. Today is the day I begin to kick cancer's ass. Today is the day I start infusing ugly, nasty, side-affect laden, toxic chemicals for the greater good. Today is a day that I wish I could rewrite the script for completely deleting the part requiring me to need breast cancer chemo. And yet, here it is and at 1:15 EST I will be at the Cancer & Hematology Center in Holland. It's where I will be a lot for the next five months. It's where I will, I'm sure (and surety is something I have less of these days as I know not how I will respond to chemo), create new friendships and forge bonds with people that I am currently unfamiliar. Because that's who I am; a lover of people and a woman that wants to know and love on all the people she comes to meet.  I don't know why I have breast cancer but someday I will ask God (along with a whole bunch of other questions!). I do b...