life goes on

No new complaints this week. Why should there be? Spent the week on Coronado Island in CA. Typical marine layer each morning, burning off by mid-morn followed by wonderful ambient temps. Resort village atmosphere. Navy fly-boys working by 8 a.m. with the air thereafter variously punctuated with their roars, whirs, whines and screams. Stereotypical beach scene of barely clad volley-ballers and their watchers, joggers, and vacationing families, plus the whole gamut of period costumes from the non-coastal countryside, including fully covered old maids and cowboys. The eating and entertainment scenes were predictably fine. Having done most of the touron-activities in earlier generational jaunts, eating and entertainment could and did take their rightful place at center stage.


I am sleeping wonderfully well. What this appears to mean at this stage is a full 8 hrs per night, interrupted only once, plus a nap each afternoon of anywhere from 45-90 min. I don't believe it myself. Perhaps bodily repair is happening during this time? One certainly hopes so. Or could it just be the declining years? (Say it isn't so!) The wonderful home in Coronado was three blocks from the main drag and all the shops and restaurants one could want, and only a scant block from the beach. This meant that it was easier to walk everywhere than to drive because parking was troublesome. Psychologically, I do not want to walk. I don't know what this denotes, but the feeling has been coming over me for a couple years now and seems to predate the cancer thing. It probably has to do with the perceived effort and is probably a clear indicator of my poor cardiac shape. But there is exacerbation of this condition now because my feet and ankles variously hurt or tingle or are numb or are cold or are swollen or are all of the foregoing. I still have a good deal of edema there at the end of the day, and, last night back in PHX, did not sleep as well as the prior week perhaps because of de agony of de feet. Hands also are still involved, as is a sense of poor temperature regulation. I am bone cold when everyone around me is walking around in T-shirts. Finally, my right knee unpredictably gives out on random occasions and at least one hip seems to be joining the knee in some sort of perverse empathy. So the neuropathy thing persists and at this point I see no further improvement.