Loren & Felicia

Loren & Felicia

Saturday, June 5, 2010


Loren was hiccoughing again for an hour straight so I decided to phone the palliative on call again.  Oncology had said to wait over the weekend before trying anything new but this  is so tiring for him.

As I was on the phone, the dog was growling at someone outside and Loren got mad at him- and the hiccoughs stopped. But we want to have something on hand if they start again.  It sounds like something minor - but when you are already weak- hiccupping for an hour solid – every second and a half - is exhausting. And the on call nurse was able to get an order for something else to try.

We both had a nap earlier in the afternoon and we are both out of pain.

Loren actually SAVOURED some artisan bread, olive oil and tomatoes over at Erv and Donna’s today. Wow - that felt good to see him truly enjoy eating! Loren’s nausea has subsided a bit and he can just lie down and rest. Thank you for your prayers.

Just had a call back - since Loren’s blood pressure is on the low side we really should wait to try chlorpromazine - but we can add back another drug that he had stopped earlier. I guess there WAS a good reason not to treat over the weekend.

From Every Stormy Wind That Blows

1. From ev'ry stormy wind that blows,
From ev'ry swelling tide of woes,
There is a calm, a sure retreat:
'Tis found beneath the mercy seat.
2. There is a place where Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads;
A place than all besides more sweet;
It is the blood bought mercy seat.
3. There is a scene where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend;
Though sundered far, by faith they meet
Around one common mercy seat.
4. There, there, on eagles' wings we soar,
And time and sense seem all no more;
And heaven comes down, our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy seat.
5. Oh, let my hand forget her skill,
My tongue be silent, cold, and still,
This bounding heart forget to beat,
If I forget the mercy seat!
6. Ah! Whither could we flee for aid,
When tempted, desolate, dismayed:
Or how the hosts of hell defeat,
Had suff'ring saints no mercy seat.
7. Ah! there on eagle wings we soar,
And sin and sense molest no more:
and heav'n comes down our souls to greet,
While glory crowns the mercy seat.

Lyrics: Hugh Stowell

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