Tonight, I want to drink beer, tighten my sphincter, and watch us stave off elimination.
When I first wrote that a minute ago, I figured the tightening of the sphincter was metaphorical, since I’ll be nervous, but then I liked the double-meaning of staving off elimination in both Game 7 and in my bowels, so, take it as you will.
A house centipede crawled out of the bathroom vent just as I was about to get in the shower a few minutes ago… so of course I did what any sensible, manly, man would do in that situation: I jumped up onto the toilet and covered it up with a plunger.
Note to anyone who might our bathroom- there’s an enormous alien creature under the plunger.
This is how it works: You’re young until you’re not You love until you don’t You try until you can’t You laugh until you cry You cry until you laugh And everyone must breathe Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works: You peer inside yourself You take the things you like And try to love the things you took And then you take that love you made And stick it into some- Someone else’s heart Pumping someone else’s blood And walking arm in arm You hope it don’t get harmed But even if it does You’ll just do it all again
Tomorrow is my dad’s birthday. Hopefully he’ll be spending it at home.
The day after Easter, he went to the doctor because he was having trouble breathing. The docs diagnosed him with pleurisy and sent him home with some antibiotics. Tuesday, his stomach started getting bloated and painful and by Thursday, my mom took him to the emergency room. There, he was diagnosed with pneumonia and admitted to the hospital.
The fluid buildup is ascites, caused by cirrhosis (buildup of scar tissue) of the liver. My dad was diagnosed with hepatitis C thirteen years ago and has been relatively asymptomatic since. He stopped drinking entirely and was treated with interferon shots to help slow the progression of the virus.
My dad has been in the hospital since Thursday and today they drained three liters of fluid from his abdomen. Ascites can be treated with a controlled diet and diuretics. If necessary, he can return to the doctor on a semi-regular basis to have the fluid drained (it’s a pretty simple procedure). However, if his body does not respond well to treatment, it is an indication that the liver is ceasing to function properly, due to the progression of cirrhosis, and he may need to be put on a donor list for a liver transplant.
We’re grateful that it has taken this long for symptoms to start appearing because of the disease, and I’m personally grateful that my dad has cared enough about his family to stop drinking immediately when he was diagnosed (I can only vaguely remember my dad ever drinking when I was younger), as well as staying relatively active and healthy. We’ll be praying that he responds well to treatments, as his blood work has shown no evidence of liver cancer or any other health problems besides the pneumonia he’s battling. If the fluid doesn’t return by tomorrow afternoon, they’ll send him home and have him meet with his liver specialist later in the week.
According to my mom, my dad has seen many of his friends and our family come to visit him, as well as members of the church he leads music at. I talked to him this morning and he seems to have a good attitude about the situation. My dad can be a pretty emotionally-charged individual, so keeping him in good spirits has been my mom’s top priority and she seems to be doing a good job.
If he’s feeling up to it, he and my mom will be making an appearance in Grand Rapids next Sunday for my birthday. If you could keep them in your prayers in the coming days and weeks, it would be greatly appreciated.
For only having 156 photos saved on mine, I sure have a lot of memories. Thirteen good ones, to be exact. As I gear up to move out of Watson and into another chapter of my life, the MacBook chapter, for the next week I’ll post a picture or two a day, reliving the life of my iMac.
“VERSUS, the U.S. cable home of the NHL, is a bit like the Chris Osgood of hockey coverage: There are times during the regular season when it’s completely ineffective and underwhelming, before becoming surprisingly competent and compelling in the postseason.”—Puck Daddy