JAK2 and other monkey wrenches

My Favorite Guy has added a chemotherapy capsule to his daily diet of Parkinson’s meds. A blood cancer, probably inherited, called JAK2. Octogenarianism isn’t what we’d anticipated.

Taken a couple of years ago

Our life together gets a little smaller each week, learning to navigate these new medical places and learning almost a new language. Guy, a Vietnam vet, is still my caretaker, since age-related drawbacks have added to the dailiness of fibromyalgia symptoms, punctuated by diverticulitis. At some point, we may not be able to figure out who is doing the most caretaking, but we’re thankful for caring medical people and friends who keep track of us well.

Probably the hardest part for both of us is dealing with the challenges of exhaustion, some days more than others.

I have so little energy and haven’t been able to keep up with several websites I follow. I know those of you who usually get feedback from me will understand.

My next manuscript was to be finished by now, or nearly so. It looks now like it will be after the first of the year.

But God has given us both eighty years this side of heaven, fifty-eight of them together. We’re aging gratefully.