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The Grand Old Duke of York

March 18th, 2012

Remember that old folk song, Dear Reader? It goes like this:

The grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men.
He marched them up the hill one day,
Then marched them down again.

When you’re up, you’re up,
And when you’re down, you’re down.
But when you’re only half-way up,
You’re neither up nor down.

And that about describes my life over the past two weeks.

We had ourselves yet another little medical adventure last Thursday. I don’t know why I bother making plans at all. Of course, any Zen master would tell you that making plans is what leads to misery in the first place and you should simply be surprised by every moment as it occurs.  By that criterion I am the luckiest creature on earth.  

On Wednesday Don’s surgeon had him go in for a bunch of blood tests to try and determine why he keeps putting out so much and not gaining weight.  Then at the regular follow up appointment Thursday morning, the doc said that most of Don’s numbers look very good (yay!), but he was borderline dehydrated.  Since this guy is extremely proactive, he had his assistant call our closest Urgent Care center and make arrangements for Don to go in RIGHT NOW and get two liters of intravenous fluids.  Don was very grateful not to have to go to the ER or other hospital arrangement, I will say.  We hadn’t had anything to eat, so we had lunch and got to the urgent care place at 1:30.  They had all the paper work ready, but they were quite busy and we sat in the waiting room until 3:30 before they took him back. I won’t relate all the things that happened to delay the procedure, but very long story short, we didn’t get home until 8:00, starving.  Don weighed as soon as we got back.  He had gained four pounds since the morning.

The doc said Don’s wound looks good, but he did want Don to keep the vac on for another week. That week is up tomorrow, so if things go as planned, he will be unplugged tomorrow (Monday the 19th). Glorious freedom!  He bottomed out at 110 pounds a couple of weeks ago, but he’s put on a few pounds since then. He weighed 122 this evening! I’ve put on more than a few pounds. I call it sympathy weight gain. You can’t really cook three fattening meals  and a couple of snacks a day for someone and not indulge too much. At least I can’t.

On a more cheerful note, a couple of days ago I finished the rewrite of my next Alafair. Talk about a book being dragged out of me with pinchers.  The Wrong Hill to Die On is the longest entry in this series by far, but that’s what happens when you write and rewrite on the same book for over a year. The production manager at my press always teases me for using such long titles that she can’t fit them on the spine, so this fat one ought to make her happy. I still have to finish the extras, recipes and historical notes, etc., but since my editor will be in Asia for five weeks I guess there’s no big rush. At least I’ll have it ready for her when she gets back.

2 Responses to “The Grand Old Duke of York”

  1. Betty Webb

    Oh, man. What a time you and Don are having. Stay strong, the both of you!

  2. Donis Casey

    Thanks, Betty. I keep telling myself that this is the pass to which we all come. Makes it hard to have a career, though.

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