This may be a repeat, but sometime ago when I asked my primary care doctor if we needed to talk about my weight—inmy happy wine-drinking, chocolate gorging days I weighed more than I ever had.He replied, a bit righteously, “We do not encourage the elderly to lose weight.”Now I know why: when major illness hits, we overweight people have a cushion torely on. I don’t think this is exactly a license for gluttony, but I did continueon my merry way, loving the strip of fat on a good steak, a lot of butter on mytoast—you get the picture. Now I know what he was talking about.

Limited pretty much to softfoods, I have lost a few pounds—not the way I wanted to. And I’m hungry, and abit tired of soft foods. So I welcome any suggestions. (Maybe I’ve said thatbefore too—I lose track of things these days). But then again, things aren’tall bad. In the picture above, I am enjoying tiramisu for dessert, having justhad smoked salmon and good deli-rich cream cheese on toast as my entrée.Tomorrow I think I’ll dice some of that salmon into scrambled eggs with a bitof onion and tomato. But then, the prospect for breakfast is a dark chocolateprotein drink. At least it’s easy.

Today was another day of doctors’appointments and tests, this an out-patient biopsy that confirmed what doctorssuspected I was dealing with and emphasized the message that it is curable. Sorough ride ahead, but I’ll come out all right, albeit no doubt dramaticallychanged by the experience.

Meantime my kids, especiallyJordan, continue to be amazing support. She was with me at the out-patientsurgical facility all morning—would you believe we got home earlier than weexpected? Medical matters never work that way! We were both touchy at first,but after all, it was five-thirty in the morning. But we sweetened up as themorning wore along, and she promptly appeared in the recovery room, full ofgood reports and good cheer. Her siblings are studying how they can best rotatebeing of help, but the scheduling, which is a mess, all falls on Jordan, withmeager help from me.

Benji ready for tea
Benji continues to cement hisway into our hearts. The other day, Renee came by, and Benji jumped into thechair next to her, looking for all the world like he too would like to haveafternoon tea. “And two lumps of sugar, please.” Moments later I caught what Ithought was an aristocratic look—turns out his attention was fixed on a fly onthe ceiling. He is in and out of the flexible screen all day long, which meanshe inevitably brings some insects in with him. But he is also sensitive—he knowssomething is wrong and sticks close to me when inside, following me to thebathroom, sleeping by my desk while I work, settling by my bed when I sleep—thoughhe doesn’t stay there long and prefers his crate. It’s amazing to me to have adog who only has to be told once, “Go to your crate for a treat,” and he does.No attempt to bolt outside for one last bark at the moon. He was just nowgrowling at something in the oh-so-dark back yard, and I pay attention, 

Focusing on a fly

Me? Wouldn’t you know I have adesk full of work—guest blogs to write about Irene and her ghost kitchen, arevision of my brother’s obituary to reflect his importance in osteopathicmedicine (if you knew him, you’ll understand that and his “magic hands,”) andyes, Irene is tapping me on the shoulder telling me she doesn’t think her storyis over. And then there’s that book about dogs. I welcome all this these dayseven if it does make me feel harried and hurried.

And politics to keep up with:my current indignation is about the amount of corruption all around us. As afriend said recently, it is incomprehensible that a justice on the SupremeCourt flew a flag of rebellion and wasn’t run out of town on a rail. Made methink of the days when they tarred and feathered people for far less serious transgressions.And then there’s Judge Cannon in Florida, so obviously unqualified and biasedthat it leaves one breathless. And those are just the big names, supported byan unbelievable web of evil. Some days I just want to weep for my country.

That aside, I am working hardto make my days cheerful.