My own mortality is staring me in the face.  I went to the hospital on Sunday.  I have been very tired lately … exhausted.  Extremely exhausted.  Falling asleep all day long.  On Sunday, I was tired on a trip to IKEA.  Afterwards, when we got in the car, I couldn’t drive.  Fell asleep the whole ride home.  Eden asked me to carry her desk up to her room.  I struggled getting it out of the car.  Struggled getting it to the front step.  Marcia opened the door and I struggled to get it in the house.  I stopped to catch my breath.  Marcia told me I couldn’t carry it upstairs.  So I did, all the way up to Eden’s room in the attic.  I struggled up the last stairway, didn’t make it to the top stair, and pushed it the rest of the way into Eden’s room.  I let it fall on the floor, and I fell on Eden’t bed.  The desk only weighed 61kbs.  I was breathing hard and my chest was pounding.  I told Eden I needed water, and I passed out.

When Marcia came up a few minutes later, she had trouble arousing me, and she decided I should go to the ER.  So, we went.  George’s friend, Rodney, made sure that I was well taken care of.  When I was seen, they checked my vitals and did EKGs on me every 3 hours.  They were planning to release me by 1AM, and Marcia explained to the doctor how I have struggled over the last few months with exercising and staying awake.  The doctor changed the course of action, and decided I would stay overnight and get a scan of my heart in the morning.

The scan showed that my heart was fine.  But also that I had 3 pulmonary nodules in my lungs.  Very small – 2, 4 and 5 mm in diameter each.  But that I needed to see pulmonary.  I started my googling, and am now very scared.  Ground glass nodules, GGNs.  The outlook for these suckers is not very promising.

When we got home, we told the kids.  We told them that my heart was fine, and that there was something wrong with my lungs.  And that we needed to see the doctor before we would know what was wrong with my lungs.  Then Marcia decided she would tell Liz that it might be cancer and that I might die.  So the kids all freaked out when Liz told them.  I told them I didn’t know anything, and that I am scared.  But I am a fighter.

I am struggling and wracked with worry.  I do not want this to be my last few months of life.  I do not.  And if it ends up being my last few months, I don’t want to waste it.

Everyone tells me not to worry until I have something to worry about.  Nothing conclusive yet, so look on the bright side.  That advice provides me no comfort.  I am not a stupid man that will be comforted by such words.

Facts are that my heart is fine, and that there are 3 nodules in my lungs.  That is all that I know.