We arrived safely home from our vacation to Wisconsin--well, semi-vacation, if one is to be exact about it. We were there to see family and friends, true, but we also were there to see what was going on with my Aunt B--she's been losing weight and having trouble breathing for months now, and the doctors were finally going to come up with a diagnosis this week.
As I already mentioned, the three most likely explanations for her condition included the Big C, which is cancer for those of you who have been spared that particular euphemism. So, while we were there to visit, we were also there to worry with them.
Does that constitute a holiday? Perhaps...as it turned out.
The diagnosis? As my Uncle R said the moment they arrived from the doctor, "It isn't cancer." Happy day!
Of course, what she does have isn't a walk in the park, either. It's called unusual interstitial pneumonia, and from what little I can find on the Internet (and make any sense of--it appears to only be discussed in dense medical journals that aren't meant to be deciphered by the likes of me), it can be a wily beast to treat.
But it beats lung cancer, this I know.
Now, I must go to PACE to practice my "Liberal" set for next week that I was supposed to write on holiday....which I didn't....but who cares? My Aunt B has a treatable disease! WOO!
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