It is becoming obvious that Ray is AFRAID to get up and move. He is afraid he will fall. He is afraid he will get sick. He remembers hearing a doctor say in the hospital, "If he goes home and falls, he will kill himself."

His appetite is miniscule. May people have asked about marijuana. Somehow, the idea of giving a lung patient something to smoke causes me a problem. It's not the marijuana. It's the smoking. I need to ask Dr. Drakes about the efficacy of Marinol.

Meanwhile, my patience is doing a downward spiral.

At least his head is not so stuffy, and the 'it feels like a cold' that his been plaguing him for several weeks seems to have moved elsewhere.

Give thanks for the small, positive changes. Keep praying!

Two things appear to be happening in Ray's life. First, the hallucinations are apparently a function of Ativan withdrawl. He has been given Ativan since his initial diagnosis -- both for its original purpose as a mild sedative, and for its use with cancer patients for nausea control. Since it magically puts Ray to sleep, I have been trying to stay away from Ativan whenever possible during the day. Now he is on Valium, and longer-acting medication which also reduces stress levels chemically.

The nausea, it seems, is in great part a stress reaction. He gets worried about something, his stress levels go up, and he gets nauseous. The less he wants to do something, the more nauseous he gets. The Valium is supposed to help that, too. We hope. Something has to work. There is no other good reason for the nausea. When he is nauseous he doesn't eat. Life becomes a vicious circle.

Give thanks that we have some answers. Keep praying for the cure!

We've had good days and difficult days since my last posting. On our last venture in Sonora, the sky was blue and the sun was out. Ray thoroughly enjoyed a wheel-chair ride through Wal-Mart, and even joined some friends for coffee at a casual restaurant in Sonora. He is getting more comfortable with wheelchair outings. It was also good for him to get out and be with people. When he sits at home with just me and the TV, he droops. So no matter what else he says, being around others is important.

Over the last two weeks, we have NOT been out. First it rained. Then it got V-E-R-Y cold. I love it like this -- sunny and frozen -- but he is very susceptible to cold these days. He is having a terrible time with nausea, isn't keeping much of anything down. I am struggling to find things he will eat that are low fat and still have some taste. He was doing well on fried potatoes, but yesterday's potatoes didn't work at all. He generally likes grapefruit, but now the frost has demolished the citrus crop. He ate an egg the other day. Guess I should be pushing eggs. He drank part of a protein drink yesterday, but couldn't keep the second glass down. I am tearing my hair and loosing my temper. This is back to where we were with the 'he thinks he has a cold' scenario. We see the doctor again tomorrow. Will ask questions then.

Keep praying. Give Thanks! Remind me that thanks are still in order, big time!

Yes, it has been too long. Since I have written. Since Ray has had a really good day. Since this disease was first diagnosed.

Ray has caught something. He says it feels like a cold. Good possibility. Joy, his caretaker when I am away for a full day, called yesterday to say that she has a cold. So I am at home with Ray this week in Joy's absence. So far, he is fighting the whatever-it-is successfully. He had a couple of genuinely droopy days between Christmas and New Years, but no temperature. I have been stuffing him full of Vitamin C and zinc tabs, giving his battered immune system as much help as it will stand. He's beginning to come around, feeling a little stronger every day. But he's still not his perky self, the one we all know and love.

He's hearing noises, convinced even when we are the only ones here that there is someone else in the house. He says he sees them moving around the living room or walking down the hallway -- from his bed. Shadows? Noises? Drugs?

He is also having trouble remembering what day it is, even though the clock in his bedroom is a calendar clock that shows the day, date, indoor and outdoor temps and even phases of the moon in addition to the time of day. For several days he has been a day ahead of himself. "Today is Sunday." No, today is Saturday. "Tomorrow is New Year's Day." No, that's Monday, day after tomorrow. "We have to go to the hospital today." No, that's on Wednesday, tomorrow. "Oh, if I don't have to go out I guess I will go back to sleep." More drug reactions? Too many days cooped up doing little or different?

We are thankful that he is still among the living, that he is conquering whatever is trying to attack him this time, that he is running no fever or showing symptoms we have been warned to watch for. We are thankful that we have been able to avoid the pressure sores that keep threatening. Our neighbor, Mike of the heart attack, has not been so lucky. He is going back to the hospital this week to surgically repair (is that really what they are going to do?) a huge bedsore that has reportedly eaten its way right down to bone.

It is still a long a difficult road, and at times like this easy to get discouraged. Please keep praying! Don't forget to give thanks!