Feb. 12, 2018 update. (How do I serialize postings? This one falls in the story-line marked “Pneumonia.”)

(1) “Ground Glass” refers not to the lower lobes, per the report which I now have read, but to a specific nodule, which I will see in person tomorrow, guided  by Ellison.

(2)  Sputum results from last week render no useful guides for treatment, no specific organism singled out, but does afford reassurance that I am not contagious, and thus not a danger to those about me.

(3)  That reassurance permitted two separate sessions of friends percussing me yesterday, one while I was draped in a make-shift way downward off the futon, the second time sitting in a chair, having just eaten the delicious Chicken Soup they made for me.  These sessions are going to play a significant role.

(4)  Then, today, I had my appointment with the redoubtable Jonathan Holtz, who keyed up an instruction video on bronchial percussion, and with his professional hands and stamina built from years of practice, percussed the entirety of the torso, back front sides, and not only did I cough stuff up then, but 2 hours later I had a sudden fit of coughing — urgent, undeniable, sustained, and —  productive!  I am coughing stuff up.

(5)  The  Chinese herbs seem to be helping.  (Insert photo here, however, of this evening’s misfortune: I’ve ruined yet another pot.  At least I got a quart of liquid off the plants before reboiling them…down to a tragic loss.)

(6) Steroids: had been sustained at the unsustainable 120 mg/day of hydrocortisone, tapering now that the bronchials are open.  I’m at 35 mg bid, or 70 total per day, with less than half that my goal, but the goal distantly in sight.  So weak I’m having trouble standing, walking.  But as long as I’m still up here in steroid outer space, I may as well give myself to the distinctively tinged realm of revelation steroids confer, or consign you to.

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