The irony of it all. November 3, 36 years ago, I was so drunk I fell through the glass top of my coffee table at 2:00 am in the morning, cut myself to smithereens, and almost bled to death. November 3 of this year, 2025, I will be at University of Iowa Hospital and Clinics having a MRI of my brain and a full-body CT scan. Ginnie will be with me of course. It’s not the way I would usually celebrate a sobriety birthday, but in a sense it may be better. I expect the CT scan to verify that I am cancer free, and the MRI of my brain to show that I have one. LOL! Joking aside, I expect the MRI of my brain to show that I am free of any cerebral embolisms (blood clots in the brain). A couple of months ago I wound up in the hospital with many small pulmonary embolisms in my lungs. My oncologist wanted to make sure none of those embolisms made it to my brain. I don’t think they did. I haven’t been experiencing any numbness, slurred speech or, well, I guess I have been dealing with dizziness, nausea and a little blurred vision. So maybe it’s a good thing I’m having the brain MRI.
In much the same manner as I addressed alcoholism, I address cancer. My cancer was diagnosed as Merkel Cell Carcinoma, and was primarily located in lymph nodes in my neck. With alcoholism, I put the disease in God’s hands, prayed each day for Him to help me stay sober, got heavily involved with a self-help group, and, oh, yes, God confronted me face to face and changed my life. With cancer, I also put it in God’s hands, trusted the doctors, took my medications as directed, and tried not to get discouraged—which is difficult. I’m well into my second year with the Big C and side effects of immunotherapy. Ugh.
But I’m thankful I’m sober while going through all this. If I really wanted problems, I could add alcohol to the mix. That would be a surefire route to self destruction, losing Ginnie and this wonderful life we have built on the Empty Nest Farm…