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Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The Dragon and Epiphanies


 
Had the Nephew chauffeur me to the Pulmonologist’s and sadly, it looks like I will never go deep sea diving, run a marathon, climb to the top of Everest or participate in anything with “endurance” attached to the title. Those of you who know me or who know the approximate size of my posterior will understand what a hardship this will be.   
 
 
 
However, and by the way - Hell Yes! No more O2 to lug around and the thumbs up to driving! I am a very bad invalid and therefore this makes me a very happy girl.
 
 
 
It is crazy to think that from the 6th to the 18th there was a substantial chance my mom would have been standing in my closet, flummoxed that I own nothing appropriate to be buried in. 
 
 
 
My poor brother (poor in the sense that he did not choose his relatives wisely) the ER doc, caught a few, shall we say, Um Hello!?! basic clinical competence moments and, really without him around, mom in the closet is more of a certainty than a potential. ( I hope he doesn’t live to regret the time he could have eliminated one of his crazy sisters ‘cause the chance was there, not once, not even twice but a few times around.)
 
 
 
Seriously, I’ve worked hospice enough that I am terrified of dying from any breath-limiting disease. I have seen enough people do the: attempt to drawn in some air,  panic for a split second, gather their wits, lean forward, wait a beat, get a shallow breath and then do it again. For the duration of their life.  Until they die. Every breath.
 

Eventually it will get worse.  Difficulty swallowing becomes a problem too and someone with little power behind their lungs, trying to clear their own saliva before they choke to death will take anyone down.    
 
Clearly, I side stepped the dragon and though I won’t share all the epiphanies, believe me they are there!

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