There is something to be said for old friends and real healing

My friend Kim H and myself, home from the doctor

The day after I posted my blog about spending a week in the hospital, an old friend (Kim H, who reads my blog) contacted me and said "What can I do to help? Pick up prescriptions from the pharmacy, go shopping for you, cook some meals you can warm up later, take you to your next appointment... let me know."

My gosh, she is one of a kind. 

Here's the story on Kim.  We became friends back in 1988 when we both worked downtown at the Allegheny County Dept of Aging.  She had just gotten married, I had just started working at the agency, but we were close in age and clicked right away.  I left Aging in 1998 for greener pastures, and we stayed in touch with Christmas & birthday cards and the occasional phone call or email.  But we haven't gotten together in many, many years.

Anyway, I thanked Kim for her generous offer but when you've lived alone as long as I have you want to take care of yourself.  Several days into things however, I realized I wasn't doing so well.  That's when I made my first home grocery order, and contacted Kim and asked if she would go to my doctors office with me for my 10 day post-surgery followup.  She said of course, and that's us there at the top, home from the doctor on Thursday.

The doctor's appointment went very well.  He removed the last of my bandages, listened to my lungs and heart, checked my oxygen level.  When I told him I didn't feel I was recuperating fast enough, he said "You've been home from the hospital 10 days.  I told you at checkout you'd need 6 weeks to make a full recovery.  Stop trying to be a Steeler."  A Steeler!  I said I was sorry and he said "Mr. Morris, many of my after-surgery patients arrive here in wheelchairs--you're doing great!"

He did make a couple revisions to my recovery plan though.  I have PT & RT (respiratory therapists) coming to my place again on Monday, darn it.  Enough!

I didn't bring up my long covid-nicotine patch idea, darn that too.  I'm going to hold off on that until I'm more my old self.

Afterwards, Kim took me grocery shopping at Kuhn's, then helped carry my stuff upstairs and stayed and chatted for an hour.  We talked about old friends, her grandkids, what our families have been up to.  I enjoyed her visit so much.  

When I was walking her to the elevator, I was thinking how much I'd missed Kim and wished we were closer like the old days.  As the doors opened and she stepped on, she said "I think we need to be better friends and be a bigger part of each others lives again."   She must've read my mind!

A wonderful ending to a great morning.  Kim, if you're reading this... thanks again. 

Meanwhile, life goes on: Thinking out Loud, June 2026

A couple days ago my sister Courtney sent this photo of her & her husband Robert's 3 dogs--Stormy, Shiva & Ace, following her into the basement of their home in Cincinnati Ohio.  For some reason it reminded me of that big dog licking Richard Mulligan's face in the opening of that '80s sitcom "Empty Nest".  

"Life goes on, and so do we... how do we do it is a mystery..."   

I'm sitting here in my customary spot on the floor in front of my couch on a cloudy afternoon, no plans of course (except what I'm making for dinner--a pot of chili) and feeling better than I have been in awhile.

From the neck down, I am healing up nicely.  My four belly incisions from my gall bladder surgery aren't pretty, but no longer hurt.  My stomach's monster swelling has gone down, and last night (for the first time since the surgery) I was able to lie flat on my back at bedtime.  

From the neck up however... the long covid pushes on.  Burning eyes, dry mouth, pressure in sides of my head.  But there is improvement. 

I feel I need to apologize to anyone reading this, as I have a difficult time keeping mum about my health issues.  I've driven a couple people in my life away since the whole long covid thing began, and I'm not sure I'll be able to get them back and frankly I don't think I even want to.  But at the very least I want to thank all the friends and visitors who take the time to come here and read my blog.  I feel guilty sharing so much here, but it sure helps to get it out.  

On a lovelier note, here's a recent photo of my niece Sophia with her beau Luke.  Is it just me because I'm her uncle, or is this young woman as beautiful as I think? 

Heavens.  And speaking of family (and long covid), the morning my whole gall bladder adventure began, I was talking to Sophia's mom (my sister Shawn) who asked if I'd heard about nicotine patches being a possible aid in reducing long covid symptoms.

I did, but never really looked into it until that call.  There's no official studies of course, or documented findings, but some researchers claim 7mg of nicotine daily for 30 days seemed to help a number of cases.  So I figured, why not.

I'm not crazy about the notion of wearing a nicotine patch again (I quit smoking nearly 20 years ago) but at least it's a very small amount of nicotine and right now I'm willing to try anything.   I have an appointment with my surgeon this Thursday (I suppose he wants to review his handiwork) and if everything looks okay, I think I'm going to begin the nicotine patch regimen next week.

Well, that's all I have for now.  After a week of eating oatmeal, bananas & chicken paste I am craving something red.  I'm anxious to see if I can tolerate a bowl of chili without too much inflammation or oral pain.  I normally add a lot of spices to my chili--garlic, ground red pepper, chili powder, etc. but not this time.  My body is way too tender for anything more than ground beef, tomatoes and beans.   Thanks for stopping by, it's much appreciated.

I have Frankenstein's stomach, other weirdness and for 19 things there is a first time

Wednesday morning I got a call from someone named Colleen, my "case manager" at UPMC.  I almost didn't take the call but I'm glad I did, she was knowledgeable and honest.

She had a pretty good understanding of my week in the hospital, and asked what my stomach was looking like.  I said it looked like Frankenstein's stomach, with red slashes and covered in green, blue and brown bruises.  

I said it was also tender to the touch and EXTREMELY swollen. I've eaten so much less since this whole thing began yet my stomach feels and looks like I was 9 months pregnant.

I'm not making this up--I came very close to sharing a photo of my monster belly here but was too embarrassed.

She told me the average patient gains between 10-15 pounds following surgery and a stay in the hospital (from being sedentary and receiving IV bags of various nutrients 24 hours a day).  As for all the swelling and soreness, I have a lot of enflamed organs right now. 

I told Colleen that I was just concerned why I'm not feeling lots better.  A few people have sent me articles or videos on what to expect following gall bladder surgery, people often go home the same day or the next morning, not a week later.  She said "Yours was emergency surgery, not elective.  Plus you underwent two surgeries two days in a row.  And then you got those infections and the pneumonia, so your outcome was different."

I asked her how soon I can begin doing some light exercising again (I always liked to do arm & leg stuff while watching tv) and she said "Nope, none of that.  You can start taking some light walks in 2-3 weeks."   Oh well, I'm still being forced to sleep upright because of breathing problems.

Colleen said I also run the risk of getting a hernia right now, and to avoid picking up anything heavier than a gallon of milk for another 3 weeks.  Easier said than done.

The surgeon wants to do a follow-up with me on June 25.  I hope I'm well enough to go, my dear friend Kim has graciously agreed to go with me.  

As long as I'm doing a health update here, I'm still wrestling with these long covid symptoms.  The left eye and temple inflammation have been subdued for over a week now, but still lots of soreness and weirdness inside my mouth, tongue & gums.  Things like chocolate, salt, tomato sauce are like eating red pepper.  It sucks, but could be worse.

And finally, something I never thought I'd do--I bought groceries online today from Walmart.com.  There was an extra $15.00 added to my bill for delivery & driver's tip, but all the items I requested showed up at my doorstep.  (And no broken eggs.)  A nice convenience but I like my walks to Kuhns.

This past week has been a thing

Before I say anything else, I wanted to thank everyone who expressed concern at my vacancy from these parts.  It meant a lot to see your comments appear on my recent blog post, and to get personal emails from ones like Margaret, Sharon, Robin, Siobhan, Tom... Thanks again everyone.

By Thursday I was showing some real whiskers

Last Sunday (June 7) I'd just finished washing up my dinner dishes, and was here in my living room on my laptop, putting the finishing touches on my next blog.

It wasn't anything too special--some family pics, some chili I'd made, and a radical idea my sister Shawn had passed along for treating my long covid.  Maybe I'll go ahead and post it anyway.

Around 6:20pm, I noticed I was taking quicker breaths.  I thought "Please God, don't let this be a gallstone."  It's usually the first symptom.  I've gotten them on occasion the last 4-5 years.  The pain is off the charts, you pace back and forth and breath hard, but it's usually over in 90 minutes.

So the pain did set in, and I shut off my computer, filled up my hot water bottle (to hold against my stomach, it helps) and basically just stood there as the tsunami started.  It gets so bad, you don't dare move a muscle.  Anyway--90 minutes later it felt even worse.  This had never happened before.  I told myself I'd call for an ambulance if it didn't improve by 11pm.

The view from my hospital bed this past week

I didn't make it to 11pm.  By 9pm the pain was so horrendous, I could barely gasp my name and location to 911.  They had a couple paramedics here in 5 minutes.  Several of my neighbors watched them strap me down on a stretcher while I cried out like a maniac, a couple even followed me and the paramedics outside.   

They couldn't have moved faster in the ER.  Pumped me full of drugs and asked if I had a history of kidney or gallstones.  Yes.  I spent the next 6-7 hours getting chest x-rays, CT-scans again & again, an ultrasound and then an MRI.

The resident physician said "It's gallstones alright, but you have a ruptured gall bladder.  You've got stones everywhere.  We're concerned about your bile duct as well.  You're looking at a couple surgeries here, and if we don't do them soon... those drugs in your system will only help so long."

They moved my bed to the Observation Deck, and Monday morning at 11am  Dr. Singh introduced himself and told me he'd be cleaning out and repairing my bile duct.  (He told me mine had several "scary large" ones.)   I don't want to spend a lot of time on this one.  When I came to, I was in my appointed hospital room, nauseated, dizzy and burning all over uncomfortable.   I pulled back my covers, and was literally soaked from the stomach down in urine and feces.  Boy did I cry out for a nurse, and a young man named Starling rushed in with a bucket of water and suds and assured me this happened all the time.  I later learned the doctor may have poked my intestines which caused the avalanche.  

This looks nice a nice view outside my bed, but I had to give this up and sleep in a chair a couple nights later

Tuesday morning, I was weak as hell (but cleaned up at least) when I met with the surgical team who would be removing my gall bladder.  They told me the procedure would be done laparoscopically.  Several inch long incisions would be made across my torso and belly (4 in total) then using cameras they'd go in and tug that monster out.

What they DON'T tell you is that they pump a ton of carbon dioxide gas into your belly to "swell you up", to have better access to things.  It is very painful and takes 2 months on average to return to normal.

My surgery was on Tuesday at 2pm.  They said it went well but I woke up in such horrendous pain I regretted having it.  They filled me up with IV bags of antibiotics and other solutions, I swallowed dozens of pills, but by Wednesday morning every inch of me hurt and I had a very high temperature, over 104F.  I was informed an infection had set in.

By Wednesday night, I felt like I was drowning.  I couldn't catch my breath.  A pulmonologist was brought in, ordered another CT-scan and said "You have post-op pneumonia."   She gave them new antibiotics to pump into me and said I'd have to sleep upright in a chair for awhile.  Here it is, 4 days later and I still cannot lie down.  

They wheeled in a special "hard seat" leather recliner, I sure could use one of those now.

Saturday afternoon, my surgeon came in my room and said "I know you're not in great shape and Pulmonology wants you to stay here awhile longer.  But I think you can heal faster at home.  We'll send you home with all the antibiotics and pain killers you need.  Do you have an upright recliner similar to this one for sleeping?"  I said I did not.  He said "I'm sure you'll figure something out. "

Mercy arranged for a cab to pick me up, and when it arrived I was still so weak a couple of orderlies had to lift me from my wheelchair and place me inside.  (That cab driver did not look happy.)  When I got home, I apologized profusely for the delay and took 10 minutes crawling out of his vehicle.  It took me nearly 20 minutes to get upstairs.

I shuffled into my apartment Saturday night, shocked how barren & plain everything looked.  I have some healthy savings, this place needs fixing up.  Anyway, I'd give anything in the world to lie down right now but when I do my chest gurgles and I can't breathe.  I sure hope this clears up soon.  I'm just glad I have plenty of groceries in the house (not that I have any appetite anyway).

They gave me a couple of breathing apparatus to exercise my lungs, and told me no baths and no lifting anything heavier than a gallon of milk for the next 2 months.  They also gave me a bag of blood thinners, water pills, antibiotics, Oxycodone.  I refuse to take any more of those opioids.

That's it for now.  Thanks for letting me share my story with you.  I am wiped out.

There will always be ones who feel like Family

The other night I was listening to a podcast on YouTube, "The Jim Masters Show".  He was interviewing Gary Frank, who played son Willie Lawrence on "Family".

Family aired on ABC, Tuesday nights at 10pm from 1976-1981.  Critics praised the show and it won it's share of Emmys.  But the show tackled a lot of heavy subjects at the time (breast cancer, divorce, homosexuality) that the network never liked.

Anyway, Gary is 75 now, born in October 1950.  Listening to the interview (a long one, 2 hours) I found it both comforting and sad.  Gary's a withered figure now, bordering on frail.  He claims he was an alcoholic and chain smoker until he turned his life around at age 67.

Gary went on to do guest starring roles on other shows until retiring from acting in the 1990s.  But he spent his childhood in a poor, abusive home and to this day identifies more with his twentysomething character Willie on Family, then his self in real life.

He makes no apologies for it, and is both grateful to be part of that wonderful show, and heartbroken still that it was canceled by ABC in 1981.  He talks of every cast member like they were his real family.  He deeply loved his tv parents Doug & Kate Lawrence (played by James Broderick and Sada Thompson) and says they treated him like a son.

FYI, James was the real life father of actor Matthew Broderick and died of thyroid cancer just one year after the show ended, in 1982.  Sada died of natural causes in 2011.

Here's how the Lawrence family's home looked in 1977, and how it looks today.  A real house in Pasadena, it was rented for the show's 6 episode miniseries.  But when the network decided to make Family a series, they built a duplicate of the home's interior to make it easier for filming.

I suppose I'm sharing this for a couple reasons.  For one, Gary Frank has released his autobiography (using the picture of himself that sat on the Lawrence family's piano for 5 seasons, for the book cover).

I'm sorry to say I won't be reading his book.  He admits it's a pretty tough read, and holds nothing back.  I think I've heard enough.

The other reason I'm sharing this here is because frankly, I'm surprised I didn't do so years ago.  Family just happens to be in my Top 5 All-Time Favorite tv shows.  Did you watch this show?  Bonus points if you loved it too.  

Even though I had 5 brothers & sisters, I grew up watching this show alone.  Like I said earlier, it aired on Tuesday nights in the 1970s at 10pm.  My older brother was watching his own tv in his own bedroom.  My younger sibs were all in bed by that hour.  Back then, our retail mom worked 2 nights a week, usually Tuesdays & Thursdays, and didn't arrive home until after 10pm.   So I pretty much watched (and dearly loved) this hour-long drama on my own.

I have to say, as much as I loved my own mom, I dearly loved Sada Thompson as Family's mom and still do.  I wish more than anything she could've reprised her role.  She wanted to, but ABC was never interested in any reunions or tv-movies.

I own the first 2 seasons on DVD, but they never released the entire series.  FYI, that dvd set at the top is now an expensive item.  But the very good news is, the entire series is available to watch on Tubi.

Last night I watched Season 1 Episode 2, "Mondays Are Forever".  (Kate has a lump in her breast and suspects it's cancer.)  The show was not only ahead of it's time, it was a wonderful time capsule of the era--on Saturday nights, the Lawrences enjoy sundaes while watching The Mary Tyler Moore Show.  And youngest daughter Buddy's best friend is moving to Detroit, but Buddy can't phone her.  Why?  Because it's long distance and the charges are 16 cents per minute.  

I miss Family, I miss Mary Tyler Moore too--but I sure don't miss those old phone bills.

C'mon, this is what $52.76 is supposed to look like?

This shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.  I was at the market, adding these up in my head as I went along.  I estimated the total was going to be around $38.00.

Wrong.  When the cashier rang me up, she said my total was $52.76.   How is this even possible?   

At least a couple of these items I rarely buy.  The large-size raspberry jam was $6.50, the aluminum foil was nearly $7.00.  Those 2 items will last me 3 months, easy.  

I still don't see how the items in this photo came to over $50 though.  (The title says $52.76 but one of the items isn't in the picture, a box of Rice-A-Roni.  I set it by the stove for my dinner.)  

Anyway, I'm only responsible for the care and feeding of one.  I honestly don't know how families out there are even doing it.  At least the Rice-a-Roni was only $1.59, but frankly I think that was overpriced too.  

I don't want to sound like one of those old men yelling about bread once costing 10 cents, but I remember when this box of rice was 29 cents.