Primum Non Nocere IV

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight)

(Part four in this series about a loved one's experiences with the medical community and its bountiful array of prescription drugs as witnessed from my vantage point. From here on out the installments are to be lightly edited journal entries or emailed inter-family correspondence, which is what they've been already in many respects. Note: Because the subject matter is so damn depressing, I've opted to include some of the electronic repartee between myself and a benefic and thoughtful uncle even when it veered away from the latest unpleasant details surrounding his niece, my sister. My uncle's commentary is italicized in that which follows. I'm not saying it will help; but vestiges of lightly battered Judaism as a child remind me that it couldn't...you know...)


September 2, 2007 1:41:32 AM PDT

Just wanted to let you both know that E was admitted to another hospital room again today after a trip to the ER. The major headaches started up again late Thursday / early Friday, and there was noticeable drooping of the facial muscles on and off yesterday (Friday), along with migraines that became more piercing and continuous last night. She and Mom were considering going in yesterday, and of course I was against that unless she's all but flatlining. I sat up with her until about seven a.m. this morning, like one would a sick child, and there was some headway made by introducing such black arts as deep breathing and fixating attention on slow exhalations instead of concentrating on grabbing the forehead in (understandable) agony. But this was tempered with large increases of Oxycontin, which I'm sure hurt as much as it helped, as she has been on that steady for over three months now, and around noon today E felt as though this couldn't continue without the Pomerado ER coming into play.

Worse, it was blatantly apparent that during the ten minute ride to the hospital E's symptoms markedly increased - she needed a wheelchair when we got there and looked like she had had a stroke again. She is in a lot of very real pain on top of the debilitating side effects from before, but once the decision to go the ER had been made she changed almost on cue. It's not quite as simple as that, but it almost is.

All other things were relatively equal as far as diet, medication and so forth on Thursday when we went to see a rheumatologist. She had become extremely immobile with joint pain after getting a little better in recent weeks. Mom had asked me to look into contacting an attorney, as things seemed that desperate with E's joint pain, hair loss, etc., due (probably) to the massive amounts of steroids she was on with (possibly) the large overdose of anti-seizure medicine wrongly prescribed also having some lasting effect on other parts besides her brain. I prepared a brief and contacted a few med-mal attorneys, with two politely declining and another speaking with me for a long while and concluding that it would be very difficult with E's medical history, which would be brought out into the open, and that (according to this lawyer, whom I suspect is right) they almost never settle in a med-mal lawsuit. I have been all for getting an attorney as long as "we" are all cool with E potentially not having the same access to health care five minutes after that attorney does anything; I have, however, felt very strongly that we should change E's doctors immediately, whether by saying something generic like "trust issues" or exposing them for (a) fucking up a prescription and (b) doing nothing about it for weeks, and why we feel that isn't optimal health care. As we left the rheumatologist's (who found no signs of arthritis to be causing E's inability to walk normally), I emphatically stated as much when E again declared that she felt it important that "at least" she now has doctors that will "work with her," including admitting her to the hospital "when" another event happens, etc. I couldn't disagree more, and felt keeping my mouth shut any longer was equal parts enabling her / inviting more doom. One doctor is negligent; the other's a drug dealer, also negligent.

It's quite possible that that only added to the stress already welling up inside her, with a later trip to her primary doctor (the drug dealer) that afternoon only adding a bit more. (Surprisingly, he spent an hour talking to her about getting her off all these drugs, which is good, but probably triggered her fear mechanism moreso.) By Thursday night / Friday morning it was obvious she was on that precipice again, teetering. I'm convinced now (perhaps more than before) that this is a stress-related affliction as much as anything else; and while we all would like the magical answer that unlocks the origins of this riddle, I can only think that the best thing to do with the large amount of risk present is to break down everything absorbed, from drug dosage to hours spent in front of the tele, into two groups: Will this (any) action help or hurt E's current status of well-being? It's hardly mystical, but then again I can't pretend to know how clear my thoughts would be after months of opiates and lobotomy pills...ridiculous...

A big dose of sleep and some concentrated relaxation would have worked miracles, but it was not to be; instead migraines, Oxycontin, migraines, Oxycontin, etc.

I can't say that this will ever be resolved mentally with her - and that is difficult to write, as defeat feels like garbage - but I / we have to be realistic about how, fucked up as it is, there is something familiar, even perversely secure, in E handing the reins to all this over to a hospital bed. She is convinced the answer, or at least the temporary answer, lies there; I am not. She is also constantly handicapped these days, whereas I am not. Mom is somewhere in the middle. For tonight, E has IVs with morphine and saline, and she took some Valium that, hopefully, will allow her to sleep - something she needs more than anything right now. I have a feeling the on-call neurologist will want to start with steroids again in the morning, and I guess we'll take it from there.

They have their cell phones; it's room 305 at Pomerado Hospital. And of course I'll figure out how to use a Samsung keypad myself should anything else arise...just too damn chipper to do it tonight...


September 2, 2007 11:18:01 AM PDT

How very sad....

As you know, without my input having been solicited, my firm opinion has been that this is not the time for litigation. I guess those attorneys you have contacted thus far agree that this case is far from a slam-dunk, will be protracted, and that E's medical history may not be helpful, if presented to a jury....There's little doubt that she has been wronged by the incompetence of her providers, but compensation for that may prove elusive at best, and, at worst, may not be in her interests if she is turfed out of the only care she now has available.

I hear your frustration over what you think is the right course of action in E's best long-term interests, but this has now become the classic struggle between good and evil for possession of E's soul and I'm not sure that whether or not you happen to be right even matters any more.

I gather that E was fine all the time she was in Albuquerque and then had a serious setback on returning?

If I knew nothing whatsoever about this case, and just read your email, the choice she has made would be obvious. At home she has you trying to impose a holistic lifestyle upon her, which, though arguably may be in her long-term best interests, she has never chosen for herself, and may never do so, despite your loving best intentions. In the hospital, she gets relief from pain, drug-induced sleep, and some freedom from constant observation, no matter how well meaning.

No matter how many family members loved them, or tried to steer them toward healthier choices, that never prevented me, your father, your sister, or my younger son, from making choices that resulted in great harm to them (us). In some of those cases, at least, we (they) chose to choose away from such observation, not matter how well-intended.

I don't have even the shadow of an answer to offer after all of the above, which you probably already knew, and I'm certainly not suggesting a hands-off approach which leads E to continue to make the wrong choices. So, what am I suggesting? I'm thinking......

I am beginning to believe that she is finding it easier to accept disability and medication than to accept a holistic lifestyle being forced upon her, no matter how subtly.

We'll try to drop in to Pomerado tomorrow.


September 2, 2007 1:16:12 PM PDT

Just spent an hour conversing with Brother J and now about to depart for el 'ospital...

Briefly:

You're exactly right about the attorneys; my mother contacted me from NM because E's condition had deteriorated so much after picking up a bit before she went to join my mother that, out of desperation, she (my mother) felt like we should move forward on that front. She disagreed with me that we should requisition new doctors first.

E's decline in NM was of the joint pain / hair loss type, perhaps Prednisone or Depakote related. Perhaps not. Couldn't hardly walk, but no migraines. That happened after she got back home.

The short answer is drug-induced sleep, if she can get it. If she was labeled a junkie, she could get those 3-day sleeping pills they prescribe to heroin addicts that allow them to sleep through the bulk of withdrawals. She needs sleep more than anything else.

The larger issues of psychological makeup I've bleated on about enough need no further repeating, but somewhere between second-mortgaging responsibility to others, whether those in lab coats or, sadly, my confused mother, or the other extreme of my father actually believing he was going to live forever until roughly two years before he didn't (true story), there's that other path, the one my grandmother took in her long demise: like sheep down the abbatoir hall way, with ushers posing as medical personnel...you'd sooner see me at the Torrey Pines gliderport with crinkled-up DaVinci sketches, catching one last glimpse of that cool chunk of concrete by uber-architect (and pathetic father) Ku-bloius Khan...but I'm not sick....but, then again, E can't see the long, drawn out killing floor that I see her feet shuffling over, willingly...so what to do?

(Like I'm such a effin' barometer in peerless decision making with my own life...)

I wouldn't say that it's been all that holistic, and if it were forced the results would have been crystal clear by now, as therein lay only two endgames possible, and no middle ground between. I would rate my involvement on the tostada scale thus far at about a two and half, and with somewhat mediocre guacamole dripping off the sides...just marginally better than the previous year of bartending from afar and throwing money at problems when possible, along with sincere concern, empathy, criticism, support, etc., but little direct involvement...I've backed off from the glaringly obvious health concerns I've seen with my mother and sister several times for over a decade, and, tragedy that it is, it may be time to do that yet again. Which will only make them more depressed, particularly when I pull my son out as well...no winners here...we'll see if it comes to that...

A visit by ch'all tomorrow would be most lovingly received, I'm sure. Room 305.


September 3, 2007 10:11:45 AM PDT

I'm curious to hear what J's "take" is on the whole situation, including his reaction to your thoughts on your possibly stepping out of the bursting radius of E's implosion, and taking your son with you.

As unfair as it is for you to have been thrust into the role of semi-permanent care-giver; with its obvious restrictions on your own choices about future opportunities, it's a role which your mom could simply not cope with unaided.

I don't hear any hope of cessation of these episodes; only palliation of symptoms and pain control. I "get" that what you guys are faced with (and I say "you" and not "we" because you're in the trenches every day; I'm not), is a permanent disability requiring permanent care and, quite probably, social security disability retirement.

As for the attorneys, I have this nagging feeling that, no matter how just your cause or righteous your claim, any attorney willing to take your case on contingency (and how else could you proceed?), is probably not the one you'd win with. If you had lost her due to the providers malpractice, they'd already be six deep at your door.

My feelings that you should not risk losing her current medical care remain the same. If notified of lis pendens, they will go into defensive mode and not even prescribe an aspirin....

Whether or not you've been that peerless barometer (I liked that) isn't germane here. We all set our feet on the paths we choose, and I pretty much got away with soaring on those crumpled DaVinci sketches most of my life until the lesser known God, Ralph (he came after Prometheus) decided to strangle my parrot (it's an old USMC expression). E is aware, as all of us are, don't ever kid yourself about that, of shuffling toward the upraised knife of the schoichet; we just don't think it will be today, or even tomorrow that we must offer our necks to the blade.

You are right about the increased depression that would result from your leaving the scene. As unfair as it is to you, you're needed too much to leave.

I'll try to get over to 305 later....


September 3, 2007 5:12:02 PM PDT

Heya...I know you called me, about E's welfare (and not mine), but thanks for listening to my (could they be more biased?) suppositions por telefono on who did what and when...I usually reserve that level of animated discourse for defining the Bush Administration...and I had started such a lovely email too:

"Her veins are becoming less available, and twenty or thirty tries later, finally, a specialist was summoned. A little Chinese woman appeared, and with the steady hand one might develop working on downed airmen at the Hilton Extended Stay, she locked in and succeeded."

Seriously, E's psychological state is floating, and veering into waters I truly hope do not overtake her. The Percocet incident / trigger last night that started a very lively conversation between siblings was display enough of what's what: that E didn't see how she was sabotaging herself by not swallowing those tabs after telling the nurse she was in pain is bad enough; justifying it a few minutes later by saying she noticed how my mother's back has been bothering her for a few days and she was just...all bullshit, and you know where I'm going with this...that E chose to throw it out there last night that she's made some really poor decisions in the past, and why should I expect things to be so different, and didn't I realize that she feels some of her conduct hastened our father's death...and then, in an assertive and controlled manner, explain away why she's doing the dog-and-pony show with the nurses and doctors to get what she wants drug-wise...well, I'll agree that she should be allowed to make her decisions regarding her doctors, for now, but this is no path to recovery...in fact, it's a prison...

I think by anyone's fair assessment of her two doctors' plus and minus columns in evaluating their treatment thus far, for any good that might be measured, there is a fair amount of wretched as well. There would be no guarantees whatsoever by switching doctors save one: the option of allowing the current doctors to conduct themselves over the next three months like they have the previous three would be off the table. But this would also mean embracing the unknown, and I am alone in advocating this.

For whatever it's not worth, I realize that my rants about the doctors with whom she has been in contact, both before and at present, sound equally reactionary and uneducated at times. That's probably because they are, and I am. Even if I could show that Lisa's chances would be about the same, or better, had she just put a fresh sprig of cilantro under her pillow these past three months it wouldn't change the fact that these people got to where they are through years of study and commitment. It takes more than an afternoon with a cable modem and the Google, and I respect that. Perhaps that is why I feel that they, and by extension my sister if she decides that they are her best option, should be accountable if they are admittedly flying blind with this medical anomaly, and are hoping for the best by throwing drugs at it. Anyone can do that, though I'll concede that the doctors have better access to those drugs, and a bigger bullpen...

One thing that occurred to me after we hung up and I was collating avenues of thought was my agreement in total when you said that these people, specifically the doctors, can't think, as that creates an opportunity for malpractice. It's training, training, training, and I agree(d) with what you said, though something noteworthy did present itself later. If you'll indulge me for just a sec...("Permission granted, Lt. Chatterbox, but let's wrap this up, eh?")...While you and I could assemble 100 doctors out on the lawn and say "All right - I need you guys to line up in a circle," and probably not lose too many, asking those that have heard of hemiplegic migraine to step forward would result in little movement, if any. Lisa's doctors were no different. So, with my little Deduction for Dummies pamphlet in hand, I would submit that these doctors were confronted with the unknown, and, therefore, forced to think (this applies more to the neurologist; the other guy doesn't really count, as his specialty appears to be a tireless ability to shrug and say "I dunno"). The decision to go to 1000mg of steroids a day did not come out of playbook as far as I'm aware, particularly because the source material on this condition is roughly the size of a Dennys menu, and not as instructive. It was a conclusion reached, and perhaps the right one given the grim situation at the time, as the result of at least a nanosecond of independent thought. I'm glad that the guy tried, instead of walking away or saying it's something in Lisa's head that it isn't, but it's interesting to note that the same guy thought she could just cease (cold) the steroid usage the day she walked out of the hospital. After a couple of weeks' worth that would make Barry Bonds blanch. So there was some thought, but I suspect it was limited to "well, enough of this might do it" and no room left to speculate on what to do afterwards if you succeed in clearing the fountains at Caesar's, but miss the landing ramp altogether. Another pair of doctors may indeed be worse, and will certainly start out just as ignorant, but Lisa should probably rethink her definitions of assets and liabilities before these two putzes kill her.

I realize that for every Jonas Salk there is...well, there's the rest, isn't there? Independent thought isn't always encouraged (citizen)...and I do hope E doesn't "lose it" upstairs. J's take on all this is that she may have already...and it's unfair for our mother to be attached to such a cloud of negative energy, a large part self-induced. Of course this waits outside when the physical problems are what they currently are...

If I bow out, it will be to an extremely modest flat somewhere nearby in this vapid outpost where palliative bagels are lifelines keeping me distracted for the remainder of the school year that just got underway. Whether he deserves it most of the time, based on academic performance alone, is not all that relevant to me; my kid is a happy kid, proud to be in school, a senior, with girlfriend, car, 20 hrs a week at Vons, and stability. As you and I discussed the other morning, I had heard of such phenomena being possible, and am convinced no further empiricism is needed in this matter. He spent the early part of this Labor Day putting together a PowerPoint presentation on Victor Hugo, and is now going to friend's pool to jump in for a bit. So good for him. And I will be supportive and respectful of my mother and E's wishes to forge (or forage) ahead their way, as they have been very understanding in letting me drop my bags in the corner of the townehome for the past year with no questions asked. I'm sure I'll be by daily with cookware in various stages of use anyway; and perhaps that is the best course to show loved ones they are loved without being too overbearing. I certainly wouldn't feel victorious if my convictions, however right, created a vibe that causes E more eventual harm in it's non-harmony. That won't do.

-----------

I have spoken with my mother again today. The neurologist has stopped by, and is recommending 250mg of steroid twice a day, half of what she had before. I'm sure an improvement will be noticeable, and we will have to all pay attention to the rate at which it is removed once she is discharged. I am hopeful that E will be able to get some sleep if she feels things are turning around, though this may become more difficult with the steroids in her body. The Depakote is being discontinued with a taper; I am not sure that they have a replacement yet in mind.

I suspect by Wednesday things will be different, perhaps enough for visit...I'll continue to forward info as it's received...t'anks again...


September 4, 2007 12:14:03 AM PDT

Hey...just caught a little evening news stating that, apparently, it was 108 degrees in Escondido today. I know Del Mar isn't Escondido (let me count the ways...), but nonetheless felt it rude that I didn't invite you and the missus over for some mint juleps or something this evening...there is an AC unit sticking out of a living room wall here, the kind of arrangement at least one of my ex-wives would refer to as "country" (I'll let you guess which one), but it works in tandem with a couple of fans well enough...

Let's look toward a Wednesday hospital visit with E if you and the memsahib (and E) are up for it, but please don't hesitate if you both would like to stop by for a bit tomorrow anytime after your earlier engagement. Or anytime Wednesday. You both are most welcome to sit at my computer (the mac) and see if that's something you would find useful, or one desk over where I have a pc. Or just "chill" on the couch and try to correctly identify the genus of whichever mutated quadruped comes strolling by...

Seriously, please don't hesitate...


September 4, 2007 10:24:24 AM PDT

How very thoughtful...

C and I were asking each other just yesterday, how "Jewish" we wanted to be, while we were shuffling from fan to fan, mopping our clammy parts with wet washcloths, and asking ourselves "what was my terrible crime, that my _________ (insert gender of applicable neglectful offspring) hasn't called to ask how I'm tolerating this oppressive heat?"

And if one of them should call? One of us would ask them to hold the phone while we try to revive the other, overcome by heat exhaustion, but, did either of them call??? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (rising inflection in best John Belushi voice).

Thankfully, it hasn't been anything near 108 here, but probably close to 90 with high humidity,and just dead air.

One of your ex-wives? I wasn't aware that you actually had any of those..As for which of them would consider a thru-wall A/C something less than BCBG (the original French; not the brand name), would that have been a lanky, luscious, Lexus-lovin' Las Vegas lass whose face and form could have launched a thousand ships and burned to topless towers of Ilium?

We'll try to visit with E tomorrow, if she's up for it, and, after our appointments today, we'll probably let traffic thin out while we have a bite somewhere and then head home. We do have a light bulb out in the only low-wattage lamp we can use in this heat, but that's okay; we don't want to trouble our children; we'll just sit in the dark........:) (how'm I doin'?)


September 04, 2007 8:09 PM

Oh that's Jewcy enough, Rebbe G-Baum; any more coming through my modem and I'll have to get my shabbas goy to report in a few days early and do some giggling for me...

("...I should crack a rib, and in this heat?")

I have spoken with my mother a couple of times today, and it would probably be best to not visit just yet. Though please do give a jingle if you feel like it: 858.613.4000, same room (I don't think there's a direct line). Both of E's doctors have come by: she is on one 80mg of Verapamil, about to go to two, the steroid I mentioned yesterday, some valium to get her to rest, Depakote once a day, and some form of painkiller TBD; the doctors seemed to be in some sort of disagreement over what kind and how much. Her primary has ordered a reduction (perhaps it has dawned on him that four months have gone by with hefty doses of opiates in Lisa's body daily - I honestly don't know - but if they're thinking about withdrawals, let alone the pain she is experiencing otherwise, it wasn't brought out in the open today), and the neurologist would like to switch her from the morphine back to the Oxycontin tabs. I've asked my mother to consider mentioning that the levels of Oxy consumed just before the trip to the ER were pretty big, and not helping. Also that, aside from the Valium which has been just so-so, E needs some deep sleep - she is not getting any, and everyday that goes by Lisa is disassociating herself from reality just from this alone (this really concerns me, as it would appear stress and fatigue are the silent vultures circling overhead), exacerbating her confusion, frustration, etc., and (obviously) limiting her body's ability to heal.

I did speak with E briefly, and she was OK to talk for a bit, but it becomes overwhelming pretty quick. That's not to say she wouldn't love to hear your voice. She would.

-----------

Actually never married either of the two shiksanas with whom I shared the occasional toothbrush and address label (I would have, mind you, but Anton LaVey was always booked too far in advance...). The lanky, luscious Loxanne (New Kowloon, not Nova Scotia, transliteration) had me at huh-ro, as did I her (or at least at huh-ro huh-ro). We were engaged, though that stuff mattered little to me, other than her happiness with the ring and all. Unfortunately, her parents neglected to tell me about the John Carpenter movie they had so deftly planted betwixt her ears, and I couldn't very well expect Kurt Russell to drop whatever he's doing everytime her head began to resemble that unfortunate Antarctic malamute...

On that note...


September 4, 2007 10:53:23 PM PDT

If anything drove me out of the practice of Judaism, it was the hypocritically laughable concept that, while a Jew was forbidden from turning on a lamp on the sabbath, it was quite permissible for him to hire a goy to do it for him...After all, God doesn't care if the goyim keep the sabbath...

But you need not send your shabbas goy over to change our light bulb. I never knew that computering by candlelight was so romantic...

We'll hold off on the hospital visit until we hear from you that it's do-able.

I don't think it's possible to get deep sleep in a hospital environment, let alone adequate rest.

Antarctic malemutes? I don't think Shackleton, et al, left any of those uneaten....

I only met Loxanne once, and certainly know the feeling of that great line from Jerry McGuire, but I also had the impression that the occasional Bulgari bauble floating in her morning cream of wheat would have been a fairly regular requirement, no?

It's funny that, though many can relate to a moment when "she had me at hello", I can also pinpoint the exact moments in my (former) relationships when, "we've already said goodbye; all that remains is to divide the books and the music", was evident in neon letters a foot high.


September 05, 2007 1:24 AM

Yeah...silly...one of my faves is the dutiful and devout hombre waking up each morning with payot a-swinging and a heartfelt "Thanks, R_lph, for not letting me be born a woman" sliding past his lips in prayer...a bit cheeky, wouldn't you say?...it's not just Muslim scholars left out in the sun too long...

(Picturing what 1.2 billion Jews would look like roaming the planet as I'm writing that...Egad!...yes, I know; tongue has been bitten...)

Remember that Sigourney Weaver-approved scene in The Thing where the doggie's head separates toward all four cardinal points? (Well, technically two N's, an E and a W...) "Loxanne" was a very passionate person, and a little cuckoo up top. We didn't need much material stuff to be happy, when we were happy, but I happily left (for the last time) those neon letters to which you refer in the rearview of a '77 Camaro with a couple of felines and a few music books in tow; she wanted, and earned, the condo, the college degree, the Lexus and the ability to successfully work from home, though we started without so much as a bedframe...ah well, behind every Panamanian booty is a...

There were a few instances, during that time, where stranded with Shackleton and gnawing on a fur-laden tendon would have seemed Valhallic enough recompense...but I considered her family...

Of course, Squeaky Fromme had a family...


September 5, 2007 10:13:57 AM PDT

And another boot in the butt out the door of tfillin wrapping, etc., was the concept of gender separation at orthodox synagogues, lest the devout be distracted by size 22 booty wrapped all too fetchingly in black bombazine. I think it's called a "mechitzah" and being relegated to the distaff side of one is tantamount (mounting one's tanta?) to being sat below the salt.

I once asked an (observant) Jewess if opening her refrigerator was violating the sabbath as it would cause the troll inside to do work in turning on the light. She replied, quite seriously, that when, at erev shabbat, she put her pot of cholent on its' low flame, there to simmer until sundown on Saturday, that she then opened the fridge and unscrewed the bulb.....

I was going to ask then, if just the act of opening the door, light or no light, was breaking shabbat, because the rise in temperature from the outflow of chilled air would then cause the compressor to start in an action-reaction event, but she didn't want to ask her learned rebbe, probably not wanting to hear the answer...Surely the Talmud addresses that issue....

I suppose the craziness could even make one shut down the A/C compressor on shabbat lest opening one's door in summer to walk the fourteen miles to schul did the same thing.

Surely, it's only a short leap from there to stoning adulterers and homosexuals...(or even those who forget to unscrew the fridge bulb).

I think Squeaky Fromme ate her family....

The siren call of the well-turned booty that causes the little captain to lead the big captain to willingly put vulnerable parts into the pickle slicer? But (no pun intended) for that, sobrino mio, there'd be a bounty on 'em....

P.S. I liked that R_alph thingie...nice touch.

How is E today?


September 06, 2007 10:55 AM

Just spoke with my mother, and E did get some rest last night, and her facial droop / other like symptoms were a little better than before they went to sleep. It meant that E slept through a dose of pain medication, thereby waking up uncomfortable, with some symptoms returning, but it's a start. They're both trying to grab a nap before the neurologist arrives around noon.

Not a lot, but something...


Thursday, September 06, 2007 3:33 PM

Latest from Reuters: The neurologist came in, saw E and said, "You need sleep." She's sleeping.


September 6, 2007 3:47:04 PM PDT

You need sleep? Not exactly the preamble to "I'd like to thank the members of the Nobel Academy", eh?

But, probably the most accurate diagnosis he'll have made today...

Maybe a visit tomorrow?


September 06, 2007 10:49 PM

Yep..."you need sleep"...how insightful...

I'll mention a visit tomorrow when I stop by...spoke with my mother around nine this evening, and more rest was obtained, and expected to be obtained, on both sides of that phone call.

By all accounts, a better day than yesterday...


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