Update on oggbashan's health

I had one of those a few years ago - it was an IQ test from hell, but my wife insisted because she insisted I was "slipping." When we got the results the doctor said "Mr. Duleigh, the test showed you are a very intelligent man and that I can speak to you and a peer and don't have to "dumb down" my results."

I felt my wife sag and heard her groan, "Oh no..." she somehow got the idea that this would come up in every disagreement for a very long time. It was like she's clairvoyant or something...
 
Just stopping by to say hello, Ogg. I've been MIA from Lit for far too long but life had gotten in the road including my own cancer scare that has dragged out for more than a year.

I'm so really glad to see you still here kickin' butt. You are an inspiration to many of us on several different levels.
 
My dad has started walking to get in shape. It's just around the theater he works at, but he walks 35 minutes daily. It will increase until it reaches at least an hour a day. He is determined to get his weight down and his stamina up! He turns 68 next week. At the same time, I turn 33!
 
I would like to be able to walk but I fall over without warning and at my size that can be painful and require several people to get me up again.

I use a four-wheeled walker outside and a stick in the house. With the stick, my limit is about 20 yards. With my walker? Around a supermarket and on a good day maybe half a mile. On a bad day? 200 yards at best.
 
I would like to be able to walk but I fall over without warning and at my size that can be painful and require several people to get me up again.

I use a four-wheeled walker outside and a stick in the house. With the stick, my limit is about 20 yards. With my walker? Around a supermarket and on a good day maybe half a mile. On a bad day? 200 yards at best.
I can manage to get down the garden and back. Anything else is debatable.

No Earl Grey on hand, but I have a lovely black Darjeeling brewing right now.
That would be appreciated right now !
 
The neurologist was very pleased with me. I stay on minimal medication (from him - loads more from others).

He thinks I am perfectly safe to drive even if my family don't agree! Even without my glasses, I can read numberplates at 60 metres (The legal minimum is twenty metres). With them, 100 metres or further.

Perhaps HP and I ought to race down his garden (with my stick only). With my four-wheeled walker, I have to slow down for my wife. My usual speed is between seven and seven and a half MPH. On Tuesday I had to walk a long way through the hospital. The nurse escorting me had to ask me to slow down because I was leaving her behind.
 
The neurologist was very pleased with me. I stay on minimal medication (from him - loads more from others).

Perhaps HP and I ought to race down his garden (with my stick only). With my four-wheeled walker, I have to slow down for my wife. My usual speed is between seven and seven and a half MPH. On Tuesday I had to walk a long way through the hospital. The nurse escorting me had to ask me to slow down because I was leaving her behind.

Oh, don;t you just love it with that sort of event ??
 
I saw my oncologist again today.

The last scan (Spetember) shows as clear - again.

'Stable disease - no evidence of ["anything" to translate medical jargon]'
The next scan will be in 3 months.

Three years ago the oncologist wasn't sure that chemotherapy would extend my life, then estimated as a max of three months. I persuaded her to try it.

Now she agrees with my medical daughter. Og is apparently indestructible.
 
I saw my oncologist again today.

The last scan (Spetember) shows as clear - again.

'Stable disease - no evidence of ["anything" to translate medical jargon]'
The next scan will be in 3 months.

Three years ago the oncologist wasn't sure that chemotherapy would extend my life, then estimated as a max of three months. I persuaded her to try it.

Now she agrees with my medical daughter. Og is apparently indestructible.
That's awesome news Ogg! Keep proving them wrong! it's one of the few joys in life we have.
 
I saw my oncologist again today.

The last scan (Spetember) shows as clear - again.

'Stable disease - no evidence of ["anything" to translate medical jargon]'
The next scan will be in 3 months.

Three years ago the oncologist wasn't sure that chemotherapy would extend my life, then estimated as a max of three months. I persuaded her to try it.

Now she agrees with my medical daughter. Og is apparently indestructible.
Congratulations on your fortitude and your ability to kick cancer in its ass!
 
Today, despite Monday's good news, I am feeling very old.

Two of our friends died this week - both of them significantly younger than me.
 
Today, despite Monday's good news, I am feeling very old.

Two of our friends died this week - both of them significantly younger than me.
My grandmother, who died a few days shy of 99, would begin all of her letters with a litany of younger friends who had recently died before her.
 
Today, despite Monday's good news, I am feeling very old.

Two of our friends died this week - both of them significantly younger than me.
I think my pop is never so down as when friends (the same age, somewhat older, or younger than him) pass. He lost a friend last year which upset him a lot. I never know what to do to help or if I should just leave it a lone.
 
I think my pop is never so down as when friends (the same age, somewhat older, or younger than him) pass. He lost a friend last year which upset him a lot. I never know what to do to help or if I should just leave it a lone.
A technique that I find works reasonably well is to ask, "How did you meet (insert name of departed friend)?" Then I just listen and keep asking kind questions to keep things going. If he doesn't want to talk, don't force it, but usually, a casual, direct question will get the ball rolling. It lets him bring his thoughts and feelings to the surface, and you'll probably learn a lot of interesting stuff too.
 
This coming Sunday (if I live that long) will be the 11th anniversary of the esteemed chap in the white coat telling me that my life expectancy was 'a matter of months not years'.

Keep on keeping on, Ogg. :)
 
This coming Sunday (if I live that long) will be the 11th anniversary of the esteemed chap in the white coat telling me that my life expectancy was 'a matter of months not years'.

Keep on keeping on, Ogg. :)
My first such prognostication by a white coater was delivered 68 years ago.

Sort of why I've lived life to the hilt since then.
 
A technique that I find works reasonably well is to ask, "How did you meet (insert name of departed friend)?" Then I just listen and keep asking kind questions to keep things going. If he doesn't want to talk, don't force it, but usually, a casual, direct question will get the ball rolling. It lets him bring his thoughts and feelings to the surface, and you'll probably learn a lot of interesting stuff too.
Yes, we do this question and answer at Christmas. His best childhood friend died at Christmas in the early 80s, and it gets him down about three days before the Holiday every year. I've also used it to help when he gets down at the loss of friends, but mostly by text, as we aren't there as much as we have been in the past. For a long time, we went to visit every weekend, then twice a month, monthly, and now not so much. Jo and I invite them up here all the time, but dad doesn't like to drive at night these days. Jo and I are committing to a minimum of once a month to jot down the 40 miles and visit.
 
My father was 96 when he died and kept his marbles to the end. But he was upset that all his friends and contemporary relations had predeceased him.

One thing that upset him most of all was an approach from the Secretaries of two Civil Service clubs for former departments. He was the last surviving member of one such club (the building was destroyed by bombing in 1940). What should they do with the remaining funds? He advised them to give the money to a Civil Service charity for members in need.

The second request was worse. Until he first retired (at age 65) he had been a member of an Admiralty Department that he had served since 1943 with D-Day preparations. The Department had been abolished in the seventies and he was the last remaining person who had held a departmental title. They had a museum. What should happen to it? He advised them to give it to the Royal Naval Museum at Portsmouth near HMS Victory. They did, but he wouldn't tell them about D-Day. Even 60 years on he considered he was covered by the Official Secrets Act.
 
Back
Top