Count Has Begun

Delve into the light and dark that is Mark

Good Friday!

Sunday is New Year’s Eve and anticipation is building, waiting for the big ball to drop in Times Square, New York, New York ushering in 2018 and saying goodbye to 2017.

For a change, I woke this sunny, but frigid morning with vim and vinegar up to my eyes and gushing out. After over a week of sheer misery and yes, another blackout and fall, today I am physically and mentally in a better place than I have been in what seems a lifetime ago.

I am still waiting, family and friends, for your memories – any memory or picture – of us together or just a funny or not-so-funny story you can recall about me. 

These will be a blessing to my sons, daughters-in-law, granddaughters, parents, siblings and other family and friends.

Please, contribute:

A Favor

My move from Hymera to Sullivan is set for Monday. I will greet the New Year in a new Mark’s Den, as I take over Mom’s living room.

That’s the way it is this last Friday of 2017.

And how is year-end wrap-up going with you?

You all have seen this pic of Phil, Lynn and I several times, taken in Columbus, Indiana in about 1964 or ’65. What I never have mentioned that our shirts were handmade by Mom. She would use a pattern from the Sears & Roebuck or JC Penny catalog, go buy fabric then make a lot of our shirts growing up.

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Mark

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.