A WEEK OF SKIRMISHS

In view of the greater battle against the bone destroying cancer, this weeks series of jousts seemed to tilt in our favor. The worst enemy by far in the litany of individual daily difficulties is nausea. Our champion lady would rather endure anything, including pain levels that would stagger a rhinoceros, instead of suffering the horrors of the endless, queasy, roller-coaster of nausea.

Our hero this week was the arrival of Hospice Nurse Cathey, who deduced from our accounts of Betty's history with pain medications, the regimen of remedies she has tried recently, and the subsequent results, that the mega-patch she was wearing for pain - a 72 hour time release whopper - was the likely culprit. She boldly over-ruled the doctor on that prescription, ripped off the offending narcotic disc and, behold, in 12 hours, the waves of discomfort were quelled. An alternate combination of proven pills was recommended and so far they seem to be both more effective and more flexible to our rapidly changing social landscape.

I will defer any further commentary for now because I want you to visit our daughter's blog for her beautiful account of last night's Christian community "therapy". I should let you know before you click on her URL that we have both throughout our lifetimes enjoyed gathering with others to sing the great old hymns of the church. In the respect, last night was truly a preview of heaven.

Among other talents, Patty is a wonderful writer and her account is more eloquent today than mine would be because I do not write well through a curtain of tears, but she does. Please enjoy this interlude in our saga.

Go to www.clayinkpot,blogspot.com or click on "Patty's Blog" at the right.