Today was a good day. Yesterday was too. That's two in a row, a
first. Both were mostly pain-free with some very enjoyable periods.

I had a scheduled physical today, which required me to fast for 12
hours before and abstain from alcohol for 48 hours preceeding. That
was a bit of a nuisance because I've enjoyed taking the edge off
about wine-thirty as my daughter describes end of afternoon, but no
big deal.

At the blood draw this morning, the young gal that stuck me thought
she remembered me. I said I'd been with Mary McCann the day this lab
technician had such trouble finding a vein and getting a draw because
of Mary's edema and low BP on Wednesday 16 March.

Oh, yeah, she remembered that very clearly. How was Mary doing? I
told her. She wrinkled, made me stand up so she could give me a
big hug, and it was a dandy.

That melted me right down for sure, but it was more cathartic than
painful.

Mary had that effect on caregivers: they all loved her within minutes
of first encounter. I think they liked me too. Even when things
were difficult, we never stopped being cheerful, encouraging the young
caregivers that we knew they were doing their level best and we
appreciated it, and the quietly playful (and sometimes spicy) banter
Mary and I so enjoyed never stopped until I left her to die in
Rochester. Her last words to me were "go home, Foreman". She was
smiling, comfortable in a hospital bed at Mayo, with a cloud of medics
trying to get an IV started in her nearly unfindable veins due to low
BP and significant edema. Her last word to me was "Foreman". She
loved me big, huge. I was rather fond of her as well.

I did not expect that she'd die anytime soon. The prognosis from
exam and lab results that day were very encouraging, thumbs up and
cheers from Dr. Chee at Mayo. The chemo was working, the incurable
amyloudosis was under control, she should start to heal as long as
chemo could keep the amyloidosis in remission.

Then she died. I felt like I'd been hit in the gut with a shovel when
I got that totally unexpected call.

The disease had caused more dmage to heart than the weakened body
could recover from by the time the amyloid dragon had been brought
to bay with chemo.

I miss that playful banter a lot every day. It was a significant part
of our everyday life. We loved amusing each other with the sometimes
pungent verbal ping pong that always resulted in laughter.

I wish the show had lasted longer, but it was wonderful fun for so
many good years.

I told the lab tech young woman that Mary was a very special friend.
She quietly said, "so were you."

She hugged me again before I left.

There are times that I'm glad I live in Minnesota. It's easy to feel
that way this time of year.

Tulops have emerged and bloomed in Mary's garden. I invited her two
best friends (other than me, of course) to come cut tulips for their
tables. Mary would like that a lot.