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Cotton Mouth

One more thought on the pain management topic, and then I’ll move on. Morphine is a very fine medicine and effective pain killer. It doesn’t reach everything, like the persistent back spasm gripping my left shoulder blade, but it manages everything else quite well thank you. Nevertheless, morphine has side effects. The one I want to talk about is dry mouth. When I woke from the anesthesia and my daughters came to see me in ICU, my mouth was completely dry, to the point of sticking to itself. Talking through a wad of cotton mouth was impossible, eliciting polite giggles […]

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Pain Management

I’m back! It is Day 11 following lung surgery on March 3 to remove the upper lobe of my left lung along with the shrunken remains of a cancerous tumor encased therein. I got a very encouraging pathology report—the radiation/chemo treatments really worked—and anticipate one more round of chemotherapy administered out of an abundance of caution. You can read more medical details at my Caring Bridge site. Lacking strength for more than one big task a day, I have been collecting topics to write about as my stamina returns. In the next few days I will be sharing some of

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People Need Some Good News

Yesterday I got to meet with my “Peet’s Ladies,” fellow gym enthusiasts who gather daily for coffee at Peet’s next door after their workouts. They saw me through the window coming into the coffee shop, and it was a joyful reunion. We sat down for a cuppa and caught up with each other. My prayer list for each one was renewed, and they were encouraged to see me with their own eyes and know that I was doing well. During all this treatment for my lung cancer since November, I have had a steady parade of home visits from friends,

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Waiting to Die, or Living to Death?

Several years ago, on the occasion of her 80th birthday, a parishioner intimated that she was the longest living member of her family at that age. Her vision of her life had not extended past that point, as every single one of her forebears had died early and suddenly or, in one case after a long illness at age 72. Since she did not know what to do with life after 80, and had no inclination to reinvent herself, it appeared to me that she was simply marking time and waiting to die. At the time, she was in perfect

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Dying and Death Is a Transition

In my contemplation of death, my own and yours—both happening some time in the future, today or decades from now—I have been grappling with the question of why it is hard to die, and we will come back to this in a day or two. We struggle through a process of grief, starting with denial of death itself. Today, I’d like to examine what we have been trying to avoid our whole lives, what is going on when we die. The topic is huge, so I start today with biblical input and some interpretation from N. T. Wright. Tomorrow, we’ll

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The Five Stages of Grief

The reality of death has to sink in, and this is a process we undergo as events and realities trigger the question. I share what has been to me some of the most helpful insights into this process, with the hope that you can be encouraged in your own struggle to find acceptance of your own death (or perhaps in the interim, the death of a loved one). During the 1960s a Swiss psychiatrist working at the University of Chicago hospital observed a progression of emotions experienced by dying patients.  Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, M.D., conducted seminars in which the dying

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Suppressed Immunities

As my blood counts sink lower, my immunity to “normal” disease and viruses diminishes. Yesterday’s trip to the nurse practitioner for my periodic check-up assessed my vulnerability, which turns out not to be too bad yet. The numbers of white blood cells and hemoglobin are going down, suggesting caution, but this is normal and par for the course. It shows the chemotherapy is doing its job. The advice was, Go ahead to the Aquarium because it is not packed with people and is a wide-open space. But now would be the time to avoid packed-like-sardines scenarios (I translate that to

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The Tenth Day of Christmas: Two Old Saints Made Happy

Every once in awhile, especially at night, a thought crosses my mind that perhaps I am living the last year or two of my life. I try not to think about this too much, not because I am in denial about the dangers of my disease, but because it gets me in a place that is counterproductive. I’ll be writing more about this after Christmastide is over. But it does raise the concept of a “bucket list,” a term coined by a 2007 movie of that name, staring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. These two hospital roommates bust out of

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The Eighth Day of Christmas: The Multitude of Angels

A person with cancer often becomes isolated; I have observed that my world has become smaller since November 4. Before I got sick, I was traveling to Kenya and Uganda on vacation. Now it is a major field trip to walk twenty minutes around the block surrounding my house.  Pretty much anyone I see now has come to where I am, since circulation in public places during flu season poses an unnecessary but very real risk to immunosuppressed people. One gets lulled into believing that reality is very small and even quiet, but the Eighth Day of Christmas carries a

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The Second Day of Christmas: A Virgin Deep in Thought

One of the delightful side-stories to my cancer journey is about getting to know my caregivers. All my doctors (medical oncologist, radiology oncologist, and surgeon) are women with unique and distinguished backgrounds. After this morning, I will have seen all three within a week, and each has provided good information to me even as they have stayed in close touch with each other. It is more than comforting to know how well they collaborate and how they have kept me briefed on progress, decision-points, and options. My family and I met with the surgeon on Tuesday to discuss the next

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