Easing on Down the Road

Delve into the light and dark that is Mark

Plans are gelling. It is all coming together.

The first day of the New Year, there will be a new Mark’s Den.

Current plan is to move me from Hymera to Mom’s in Sullivan come Monday. I will have what was Mom’s living room as my room, complete with a mini fridge and hospital bed. The bed is being delivered and set-up today.

Same with the mini-fridge, my nephew Chance is loaning me for the duration. Chance has not had the opportunity to take advantage of his Christmas present yet for his “man cave“. 

Says a lot about the young man. Chance has been helping get the new Den in order.

Appreciate it Chance!

Of course without Mom, Dad, Susie and Bill, none of this would be possible.

Love and appreciate my parents!

My Heart to Heart hospice social worker has been handling my other providers this morning. With her aid, my frozen dinners, alert button and extra help will continue unabated.

Mom and Bill will be back over to do more packing and moving today. Dad has already come and checked on me, made sure I had coffee and Chooey could take his morning constitutional.

My folk are in their 80s. Their other halves are in their 70s. Says a lot about these folk who should not be having to face their oldest child in this state at their time in life. Yet, they seem at times to be indestructable.

Pray that all goes well.

Don’t forget:

A Favor

That’s the way it is on this sunny day in the Cornfield.

And how is your Thursday going?

From Christmas this year:

Phil, Dad and Bill at Phil’s and Brenda’s house Christmas Day, 2017

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I am Mark Ivy, a born and bred Hoosier. I am father to two wonderful sons, Dave and Kev, of whom I am very proud; two terrific daughters-in-law, Anna and Hailey; three beautiful granddaughters, Dylan, Alaina and Amelia. On May 9, 2017, my lung specialist hit me with the news I had maybe six months to live if the chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), the damage caused by the histoplasmosis described below, ran its normal course. I am now on hospice at home. Content and ready to cross over the river to the other side. On September 2, 2014, I was diagnosed with disseminated histoplasmosis, a fungal infection, discovered by a biopsy of my larynx. The infection is fatal if left untreated. For 2 1/2 years I lived under a death sentence being misdiagnosed with a non-specific bacterial infection which left my right lung a "dried up sponge" and non-functioning. I was aggressively treated for the infection with antifungals. The treatment ended October of 2015 and fortunately did not take two years. I suffer from chronic Horton's Syndrome. The effects vary widely causing various problems. Statistically, Horton's affects only 0.1% of the population. Major depression also attacks me regularly.