I am updating here via my phone, so hush on any typos. I have been meaning to do so the right way, but then stuff interferes.
Many of my peoples have heard, but on Wedsnesday we had to put dear little Norman to sleep. He was an old, old man. I was afraid on a few fronts: I didn’t want to cheat any of us out of good days, but I feared too many bad days would pile up before we figured it out. It was time and he sort of let us know. He was senile enough that he didn’t seem miserable, but it was clear that health issues were accelerating both discomfort and (moreso) brain dysfunction. So while he was just moderately sleepy and mildly to moderately loopy, it seemed it was right. I was beginning to fear he’d hurt himself. (He stopped reacting to the mail falling through the slot in the door, but he would try to bound up the stairs if I coughed — through the baby gate.)
It could’ve been worse. He was a good boy, we’ll miss his neurotic sweet self, so a round of applause for Norman.
I have to, it appears, call Dana Farber on Monday. See, the orthopedic oncologist ordered the biopsy, and I am not sure if the biopsy results will go to my guy at DFCI as they come back. I know that the orthopedist should make an appointment when the results are in… but I’ve heard nuzzink. Two weeks is not an unusual time to wait, and they would call me in either way to schedule an appointment with the ordering doctor if they had results. I made the appointment at DFCI last visit, thinking that they would be back… but it might be cutting it close. And without some input from pathology, I know their hands are tied as to where and when and how to proceed. So I don’t want to waste my time, energy or Mr. Shoe’s sick days to have them say they need to push it out another week.