Sleepies Raid

Brother Lynn and Step-Dad Jack entering the house Mom and Jack had rented on the east side of Lake Sullivan. This would have been in the mid 1980s.

The sleepies raided my system on Friday, attacking from 6 a.m. until about 2:15 a.m. Saturday. Yet through the raid, a lot happened on Friday while I was in and out of slumber.

Susie got my pay, bought groceries, picked up medicines, later with Dad in the evening checked on me. Leticia checked in on me around noon and even got me some fresh ice water. Aide Bambi came in, cleaned me up, shaved me, washed my hair, took care of Chooey, changed socks and shirt.

A lot happened as I was not fully functioning. Now here it is at 4:45 a.m. on Saturday. I am wide awake. I even took all my meds and did a couple of nebulizer treatments – another here in about an hour and a half.

Of course this just messes up my whole routine of monotony. In other words, this Saturday, I definitely need your prayers 🙏🙏🙏 to keep functioning as I should.

Need to try and get a Boost to up my strength. Need more ice water. Need coffee. Another few hours more medicine.

Complicating everything is the weather.

The mercury is currently reading 19 with wind chill of 11 degrees. Snow is in the forecast for later. Most will fall north of Interstate 70 which is about 20 miles north of me.

Weather is not my friend.

That’s the way it is in Mark’s Den as I attempt to recuperate from the scare earlier this week, which continues to elude my grasp.

And how is your weekend going?

The “kids” – his, hers, ours: Mark, Lynn with Leticia, Johnny, Phil and Lorena Christmas 1993

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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.