The ministry of presence

Last night before I went to bed, I realized it was July 6th, Aaron's birthday. Because he's all the way west, I felt it was alright calling at 11:30pm ET. 

Got his voicemail and left a loving message. He texted back at 2am that he's working (on a boat) out in the Aleutian islands in Alaska. We need to catch up sometime, hoping he calls back. A couple more texts back and forth during the day. I miss my buddy.

Today I worked a lot and headed down to Richmond, VA to my cousin John's in the afternoon. Allegedly a 2.5 hour drive, it took me more than 4. I knew I should have left earlier or taken the day off. I'm already taking Tues, Wed, Thurs off this week, why not Monday! 

John needed someone to go with him to a doctor's appointment tomorrow. If you recall, in 2022 I spent a week at John's apartment when he had his kidney removed. "Get outta here, Lefty!" 

Well, his cancer metastasized and is everywhere now. And he's really unwell. And they don't tell you anymore "We give you six to 10 months." They don't tell you how long, or what time, they just don't. 

Tomorrow he meets with the oncology team, and they said to not come alone. 

I'm happy to go with. I want to hear what they have to say. I want to be there to listen. He's a stubborn fuck and he said he's going to fight it with all he has. Part of me says, why? Why do this to yourself? What is it going to get you?

Doug and I talked about what we think we'd say if it was us. We know what we'd both say. But he said in the moment, in the actual moment, you don't know what you'll say. You just don't. 

He hugged me when I left and told me that I'm going on a ministry of presence, where you show up authentically. Not to go in and boss everyone around and tell people what they should be doing and thinking and feeling. You just go. You're there. Be there. His hug meant a lot, and he's absolutely right. I could sit in this room with John and hear what he's hearing, and in my mind it's a slam dunk of "can you please prescribe me some really good pain killers because this is going to hurt." Or like what I think is in his mind, "I'll go down swinging, fighting, spitting, and clawing. Let's go. Let's fight." 

After it took me for goddamn ever to get to Richmond, I picked him up and we went to dinner. He wanted to take me to a Richmond Institution, "Joe's Inn." The food was nice, I didn't want pasta so I went for a salad with a crispy chicken breast on top. He got steak tips but asked for rare, and got well done. 

He has no appetite, but he needs to eat. So he had a little dinner and packaged up the rest for lunch tomorrow. 

I drove him home and he went to bed immediately. I thought he may want to sit and talk or something, sort through some things, but he had no energy and needed to be horizontal. He's lost so much weight, is using a cane because he has cancer in his thigh, and he's just a mess. The kid is a mess. 

So I'm going to go with him tomorrow morning, and we'll see how things go. 

The hotel is cute. I like it. I don't like the room art, more on that tomorrow I guess. But now. Bed.

digits

exercise: 10/12 hours. lost 5 and 6pm to traffic. did a treadmill walk at the hotel, 15 min/.75 miles.  7600+ steps by bedtime

blood glucose:

8am: 143
4:30pm: 112
11:45pm: 177

food & meds:
8am: phentermine+jardiance
10:30am: english muffin w/pb
1:30pm: met+glip
8pm: salad w/ chicken breast and bleu cheese. 1 beer; met+glip
10pm: 2 glasses of wine at the hotel bar.