The art of life is to know how to enjoy a little and to endure very much.
If this is the art of life, I think we've been applying a heavy coat of endurance on that canvas, and it's pretty much overpowering those little splashes of enjoyment. Hopefully, the end result will be something beautiful. Right now it looks like a mess.
On the very good side, my husband's pericarditis (inflammation of the heart lining) has improved dramatically. Although the EKG shows some signs of inflammation, his pain is gone, and he is no longer on the pericarditis drug. (That's a nice touch of color. Perhaps cadmium red would be appropriate?)
On the endurance side, he has a pretty severe, chronic sinus infection that has not responded to the first two rounds of antibiotics, and the doctors are throwing the "big guns" at it, now. This means oral steroids (which can possibly be a factor in recurring cases of pericarditis) and the antibiotic, Levaquin.
After the first dose of Levaquin on Tuesday night, Dwight experienced a wide range of scary neurological side effects (not uncommon on this drug, by the way. Inform yourself before taking it.) He was up all night being anxiously miserable, and I was up all night watching out for the onset of hallucinations or seizures. It was like a slumber party, sans slumber and sans party. (I'd paint this black, for sure.)
Yesterday was spent recovering from that, plus contacting doctors to see what they wanted to do next. They recommended a different antibiotic. So basically the next few days will be a trial of that, followed by the oral steroids (assuming he can tolerate them.) Hopefully he will, hopefully they will not precipitate another attack of pericarditis, hopefully his sinus infection will finally be resolved and he won't need sinus surgery. I am exhausted from two weeks of intense stress, (and my store of physical/emotional energy is low, even on a good day.) My husband is simply trying to get back to work and to taking care of his family. It's rough for him to be the sick one.
This probably doesn't sound too bad, compared to what many of you suffer every day. I know some of you are battling cancer, and rheumatoid arthritis, and dermatomyositis, and other unimaginable difficulties. And in the midst of them, you have reached out to me and my family with your love and prayers. A simple "thank you" isn't enough to express my gratitude. You deserve a masterpiece, painted especially for you, by the artist of your choice. (Picasso, Monet, Cassatt, Matisse, you name it. Just don't ask for a Dali.)
So that's the update. We're a work in progress, and I'm hoping to see a bit of cerulean blue sky on that canvas today. Looking up...