The caregiver has been awaking at 4 in a panic about what we would learn today from the local ocular oncologist. I had decided it was not cancer but part of the Valley Fever. On Day 15 of Fluconazole I am still getting gradually better, seeing great in the distance but aware of a grayish or brownish film right up close. The film is thinning every day. The thing that worried me was that the great blob of fluid, while shrinking, might leave a circular or oblong ridge behind it, on the retina, like trash around a pond. Well, the oncologist was downright cheery as he saw how the infection had shrunk. I explained that it will be another week or more before I can see an infectious disease doctor about Valley Fever (he is busy with COVID19), and he agrees that in the meantime I keep taking Dr. L's magic pills and forget we were told in Stanford that I was riddled with cancer. So it's a new field. There is danger everywhere outside the house, and the beach may be wholly closed, but I will find more out about living with VF, soon. I wonder how far I can walk if I try to walk.
The thing is, we lived for a good many days with a sentence of blindness and probable death. You don't just say, Oh that was wrong and now I can forget that time. In the academic world I knew many with great reputations who were as incompetent . . . . .
The thing is, we lived for a good many days with a sentence of blindness and probable death. You don't just say, Oh that was wrong and now I can forget that time. In the academic world I knew many with great reputations who were as incompetent . . . . .
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