January Moon


In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo: This Angel: Jennifer Nettles


I do not know if anyone noticed, but the moon has come to full over the second week of the month.  For whatever reason,  I went outside every night to watch it through completion.  The moon seemed much closer than I remember.  More distinct.  And I dragged Kath with me, several times, as I was mesmerized.  With the bare eye, you could grasp its furrows and mountains.  Light and shadow.  It was definitely different.  So marvelously vivid.  Captivating.  Almost haunting in its attraction.

I have since discovered that I was not alone in my lunar appreciation.  This was the first full moon of this new decade, with 12 more to follow before this year ends. Sadly, I was unaware of an apparent lunar eclipse, which occurred as well. The good news this year is that there will be three more.  I will hopefully see at least one of them.  I have never before shown even a passing interest in events of this type.  This one lured me, like Odysseus to the sirens.  I just had to experience its beauty.

The "Wolf Moon" designation was given to this moon by spiritualists, whose sage is the wolf, who is declaring, "I am here".  Like the wolf, this moon asks you to trust your instincts, be loyal, be free, and to share your knowledge.  The wolf is intelligent.  Spiritual people believe we should learn from him.

Perhaps, just maybe, my lunar fixation was not accidental or random.  I was drawn in. This moon might well portend a year that may well be special.  I hope it will be.  For all of us.

Interestingly, for the last few years, when Kathy heads off to teach, I turn around, bend over, and send her on her way with a goodby look at my butt.  My "moon" in her rear view mirror.  I think she appreciates it.😉



Last week, I omitted any discussion of our health.  Time to catch up.

On January 8th, I drove to Moffitt Cancer Center, to see my friend, Dr. Harrington.  Our meeting had been scheduled since early last December, but I chose not to discuss it with you as the year was ending.  The holidays were not meant for worrying.  We needed to refresh.

The good doctor and I exchanged pleasantries surrounding Christmas and our times with children.  I asked him if he was planning to do further missionary work in Panama.  He had been there, earlier, to help a hospital with surgical techniques and spent a week in their ER.  He loved the work, but felt that he was also missing out on some much-needed family time.

He told me a most interesting story.  He had missed his last scheduled trip, due to a pressing family issue.  He had cancelled at the last minute.  Two days later, at the exact time he would have been in surgery, the operating room had been completely destroyed by an earthquake.  He would have been killed.  He said to me that it made him wonder about a "higher power".  Could have been luck.  We let the conversation lie.

Our meeting was quite funny.  He asked me why I was there, and I said I was going to ask him the same thing.  I was scheduled for surgery, no doubt, but the orders were not specific.

My canvas has many flaws.  Too many to detail.  We could pick and choose as we wished.  On my skin, there are innumerable destinations for a surgeon's scalpel.  The doctor had wanted to remove a section of my nose, and a basel cell on my back.  What else?  I told him that I had driven to Moffitt, myself, and that he had to leave me fit to drive home and able to sleep, when the night came.

For those of you who have not enjoyed multiple surgeries, one thing matters over all others.  If the surgeries are not planned, and the wounds are not organized logically, there may be no way to lie down, without discomfort.  If you are not comfortable, then you cannot sleep.  If you cannot sleep, you will not heal.  I have become a master planner.  Self taught.

So we chose to excise three nasties on my back and one on the inside of my left thigh.  That one was a round sore which opened and closed, randomly, and bled all too regularly.  And, of course, a piece of my proboscis had to go.  Doc's choice.  Away we went.  Within forty minutes, the bandages were all applied and I was sent off home, with the usual instructions.  No showers for two days.  No bending over or lifting objects over four pounds.  Same old, same old.  And I could sleep on my side. Exceptional.


                                               Home from the hospital for my first look.


In due course, I will receive the pathology results, and know whether or not we are done with these particular areas of concern.  We can only hope.


                                                  After two days and bandage removal.



                Connect the dots in your spare time. The line back to my nose will take some maneuvering.  .



                                             On my thigh, above and behind my left knee.


My directive was no golf for three weeks.  Not likely, my friends.  Bets on the over/under?


Last Monday we received good news.  In fact, great news.  Kat has been waiting for approval from the Humira people, that she could receive the injectable drug, without a $1400/month payment.  That hurdle was cleared, and her first month's supply will be delivered to our house, at month's end.  She was advised that she will be covered until the end of the year.  After that, we don't know.  I am expecting a good year, and this was a most welcome start.

Without mentioning names, I must thank friends, who offered to pay Humira for the first few months, without our repayment, so that Kath could get some relief from the pain of her disease.  We declined, of course.  Their continued friendship is all we would ever want.  It was a heartwarming gesture, and we are grateful to have friends as generous as this.

As this day is MLK Day, my bride had the day off.  She cleverly used her down time to advantage.  She had scheduled a colonoscopy.  Just for fun, I think.  We spent the morning with her medical friends, and are now at home for the balance of the day.  She is working on school plans and destined for bland food for dinner.  I am counting the minutes until cocktail hour, which might arrive earlier than normal.  Solo.  Sorry, my dear.

This past week has found me relegated to my home.  Again.  And for a while longer.  Thanks to my surgeries.  I am feeling very well, and looking forward to escaping the house and breaking doctor's orders.  Things I do well.

Being home, I do get a chance to contemplate and find so much happiness.  I can practice giving thanks for all the blessings in my life.  There is time to reexamine all that has passed and imagine all that is yet to come.  It is a chance to breathe deeply, and to shed my troubles.  I must confess.  My troubles are few, and my blessings are uncountable.

I am a lucky man.  I truly am.

Thank you for your time.  I hope you find some joy in my story.  I find incredible happiness in its writing.

Love (and hugs) to you all.

Thanks for your notes.

See you next week.




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