Monday, 14 July 2008

Taking Lungs for Granted

We had a busy weekend but for once had time together to enjoy. This was made all the more poignant by Himself going to have a lung checkup this morning for his condition called Pulmonary Fibrosis.

He dropped me in Truro as I had several meetings there, and he went on to Treliske, not knowing how long it would take – last time he was there all morning. I couldn’t ring him till nearly 1o’clock and he sounded cheery as he answered the phone, so I knew things couldn’t be that bad.

“I had an X ray and breathing tests, and apparently my lungs aren’t likely to improve but it’s no worse,” he said. He paused and I knew there was more to come. “He said that most people are dead within three years of getting pulmonary fibrosis,” he added, in a matter of fact sort of way. “So I’m very lucky.”

It is now three years since he was diagnosed with the disease. I went hot and cold and shook. If there is such a thing as a ghost walking over my grave, this was it. A brush with death. Or a near brush. I’m still trembling just thinking about it.

“In fact, he says it might just be scar tissue, not pulmonary fibrosis after all,” he added.

My first thought was Thank God for that. Then I thought – hang on. Why didn’t they get the diagnosis right in the first place?

But the important thing is that he’s doing fine. He’s playing the cornet well – the Big Gig is in a month’s time – and his lungs have to benefit from that.

The bad news is that we didn’t win the lottery this weekend. But I’d rather know that his lungs are OK. Because you can’t buy new lungs for love nor money.

P.S. Off to Ways with Words in Devon on wednesday to listen to a talk by Celia Robertson about her grandmother. Apparently "by the 1970s, Sophie, the grandmother was destitute and mad. She washed her hair in margarine and cut up presents in case they had a listening device in the lining. In another life she wrote for the BBC; her poetry was published by Leonard and Virgina Woolf; she was reviewed in the national papers and had tea with Vita Sackville West. Celia Robertson asks: Who was Sophie?"

I can't wait to find out....

12 comments:

Lane said...

What a relief for you both! Great news. Lungs v money? I know what I'd choose:-)

Crystal Jigsaw said...

D'you know, I was going to ask about the cornet before you mentioned it. It takes a lot of puff to play one of those things, doesn't it?! You can start relaxing now then.

CJ xx

Akelamalu said...

That's great news. Perhaps the trumpet playing has improved his lungs?

liz fenwick said...

Thank God.lizx

Rebecca Taunton said...

I was thinking about you both all through yesterday, knowing that Mr FP was having his check up. That's very good news indeed. Thank goodness!

Flowerpot said...

lane - yes that's what I thought!

Crystal - yes it takes a lot of puff to play those things! I can't get a note out of it!

Flowerpot said...

Ak - as it's scar tissue that has been teh problem I don't know that it's helped but it's certainly keeping them fit!

Liz - absolutely!

RT - oh bless you. Your crossed fingers worked then! Hope you had a good time at Stithians Show - look forward to the pics!

wordtryst said...

Agh. Thank goodness for the new diagnosis. The things we take for granted! I never give my lungs a thought and this post reminded me that that's a luxury sometimes.

Flowerpot said...

wordtryst - that's what I felt too!f

Zinnia Cyclamen said...

Oh my goodness, what a horrible shock for you. Scar tissue sounds like a much better bet.

Flowerpot said...

Zinnia - well that's what pulmonary fibrosis is - scar tissue on th elungs. It just depends how much... but yes a huge relief.

ChrisH said...

Phew! Glad Himself is doing so well.