Down the Writing Hole: A Year of Living Dangerously

It's been a year of living dangerously.

While walking with a friend on a mild, sunny day last February, I experienced a brief episode of blurred vision. Never good but it lasted no more than fifteen seconds and could be ignored. A second, longer episode later that evening could not be ignored. My doctors took it very seriously indeed and after six hours of tests in the emergency department and a biopsy later, the verdict was Giant Cell Arteritis (GCA).

GCA is an autoimmune vasculitis — the immune system attacks blood vessels, leading to inflammation that can cause serious complications like sudden, permanent blindness if not treated quickly. Massive doses of Prednisone, a corticosteroid that suppresses the immune system and decreases inflammation, are then prescribed to save the eyesight and possibly save your life.

If you've never been there, entering the Prednisone world is daunting. Prednisone is a miracle drug but is otherwise disruptive and destructive to every system in your body. While the prescription doesn't usually come with a lot of advice or instruction from your doctor, internet research is more interesting. There are foods you should not eat while on Prednisone, and supplements and other medicines you should not be taking. There are other supplements that you really should be taking because Prednisone is wiping them out. So there's that. You must then get off of Prednisone as quickly as possible but it must be tapered just so or you'll be back where you started. You immediately become an expert in corticosteroid management.

Having managed to be extremely healthy for most of my life, GCA was a shock, of course, but it began to seem like a cosmic joke when followed in March by another new medical experience with a pulmonary embolism. Now in addition to Prednisone, add a blood thinner and an oxygen tank.

While I'm soldering on, trying to take it in stride, my doctors report to me that one of the scans had turned up an image of a lesion on one of my ovaries. To the Prednisone, blood thinner, and oxygen tank, add surgery to remove the lesion. It's a cosmic joke gone wildly bad.

My answer to all adversity, and to keeping my sanity in general, is to get outside and walk. Most days, I walk a mile or two in all weather and conditions for healing and sanity, and for the simple joy of being outside. In addition to my large indoor oxygen tank, I had a small nine pound tank that fit in my backpack and allowed me to continue my daily walk-abouts; the universal antidote to all of life's setbacks.

So by June, I had tapered off Prednisone completely, and by August I no longer needed an oxygen tank. The dreaded surgical procedure turned up no lesion, malignant or otherwise, and a benign resolution closed that whole episode. I calculated that the half life of a cosmic joke is about six months. I still have the autoimmune disorder and take drugs I'd rather not take but am so grateful to be feeling strong and normal again.

Steve's year of living dangerously took a more subtle form. He was banging up the car with miscalculations while driving. Steve decided to voluntarily give up driving before those miscalculations ended in a serious accident. It has been my assumption that most elderly drivers had to have their hands pried from the steering wheel. I was both surprised and very proud of Steve for making the transition without drama.

It helps tremendously that we live in Woodin Creek Village which is not just an appealing name thought up by real estate developers, but a place that really does aspire to feel like a village. We can walk to restaurants, cafes, and an astonishing number of wine tasting shops.

Woodin Creek Village main plaza

Wine Alley ambience

Winterfest horse and carriage rides

Steve continues to teach painting and regularly paints in studio with painter friends. He no longer has a studio of his own but has accommodated.

Steve's painting Bridge Over the Seine

I continue doing political work which is frustrating as always. Politics is not terribly compatible with the Christmas spirit so I attempt to detach from such thinking and speak of other things this time of year.

We have a lot to celebrate. In addition to holiday cheer, Steve and I are celebrating our 51st wedding anniversary and my birthday pops up a week later. I wrote a poem.

Happy Birthday to me,

And now I'm eighty-three.

It's going so fast,

It cannot last,

I have to let it be.