One beat at a time . . .

I just phoned my doctor’s office in NYC. They have my echocardiogram in their hands. But it is the end of their day. My doctor, who is one of the world’s foremost authorities (if not THE authority) on soft-tissue sarcomas, will be personally reviewing the ultrasound. But he is “in clinic” tomorrow and then is scheduled to fly somewhere on a plane. So it’s looking doubtful that I’ll have a response from him before next week . . .

But before some parties begin bitching and moaning that the world medical community hasn’t immediately dropped everything to deal with my situation, let’s review some basic facts here. Our hearts beat about 100,000 times per day. In retrospect, I have been symptomatic for AT LEAST six months. Therefore, my heart has beat more than 20 million times with this tumor in it . . . so I’m betting it’s good for at least a few more thumps.

I really am feeling great. The best I have in a long time. I took another long, early morning walk today. Very peaceful and rejuvenating. What was once a chore has now become an addiction.

But I’m tired of sore kidneys. Even though I cut my Lasix dose in half two days ago, the soreness is still there. I think my Italian restaurant experience two weeks ago demonstrates that diet trumps Lasix. And my diet has been impeccably clean and (almost) sodium free since that time. So I’ve decided to discontinue the Lasix. It’s only designed to address the symptoms, anyway, not the underlying cause. If my lung congestion and fluid retention return, I’ll simply start up again. But I don’t think they will. Those that know me well will recognize that this decision stems from an absolute refusal to relinquish decision-making authority over matters affecting my destiny to anybody, regardless of their credentials. And an absolute willingness to accept the consequences, whatever they may be. You gotta be willing to throw your weight around, no matter how light you are . . .