No news is good news

No news is good news.

I am awaiting the results of an echocardiogram to measure the ejection fraction of the left ventricle of my heart. I am being treated for pulmonary and cardiac sarcoidosis and it is my hope that medication, exercise and life changes have improved the strength of the left ventricle, which pumps oxygen-rich blood into the body.

I have been anxious about the test, but I have tried not to show it. I, like tens of thousands of people dealing with an autoimmune disease, just want to see some sort of improvement. And I really want to get off prednisone, which is controlling the disease but causing side effects, including type 2 diabetes, mood swings and weight gain. Yes, I am an edgy fat man with a sweet tooth…But I digress…

The test Thursday morning was easy enough. Took off the shirt, laid back, let a technician run a goo-covered wand across my chest to “read” heart activity. The ejection fraction is demonstrated in a percentage. A normal "EF" is between 50 and 70 percent. Mine was in the mid-30s in March, the last time it was checked. I want my heart to improve so I stop taking prednisone and methotrexate, which "treat" sarcoidosis by suppressing the overactive immune system. I don't want to go into the winter months with a suppressed immune system. I caught a could that knocked me on my butt for two weeks. I don't want to go through that again or worse. I get nervous any time I sneeze or get the sniffles.

I want my heart to improve because I don't want a defibrillator installed in my chest.

The technician who conducted the test Thursday was cool. Very professional and put my mind at ease even though she could not read me the results. My cardiologist will do that. “Well, I guess I won’t freak out. It’s not like you stopped the test to get the doctor,” I said after we were all done.

“That’s only happened twice in the 10 years I’ve been doing this and I don’t have to do that today,” she said.

Good. Later Thursday, I did not call my cardiologist for the results. I wanted - needed – a day free of worrying about sarc and what it is doing to me. So, I exercised, did some writing and am preparing myself to make the call. Regardless of what the doctor says, I know I am still in the midst of a lengthy process to get well. Some days will be better than others, but I keep moving toward the goal. Watch. I bet he will be off today. Then it is 72 hours of waiting.

Oh, well. Life goes on. It finds a way. I take solace in that fact.

Have a nice weekend.

Establishing 'the new normal'

(Above: A radiogram showing advanced pulmonary sarcoidosis)

I am seven months into dealing with sarcoidosis of the heart and lungs and I am still getting used to the new normal. Some people who are diagnosed with chronic disease go through a period of mourning the passing of that which they thought they were before they were stricken.

However, I do not mourn the old me because I am still alive. I'm just tryng to get with the new normal.

Sarcoidosis has changed how I live. I have to think about it or react to it all the time. The autoimmune disease is scarring my lungs and heart and who knows what organ or system is next on its list. Sometimes I feel like I am paying attention to every breath and heart beat.

Most days I am upbeat. I am going to beat this thing. Some days I am low and scared. However, I try not to allow negative thoughts dominating my mind.

"It's tough. It's a real challenge dealing with a chronic disease," my internist said to me today after I visited him after being ravaged by what I think was a bad reaction to a flu shot. He things I caught a cold and had a rough time with it because I am taking prednisone, which controls sarcoidosis but suppresses the immune system leaving one especially vulnerable to infection.

However, right now we're focused on chronic conditions and the new normal, so...

I told my doctor that I am frustrated because I am no longer normal. He pointed out something that has been bouncing around in my head since childhood: Normal is relative and fleeting.

It would be great if my heart and lungs functioned at what is widely considered a healthy standard, but they do not. I have to find ways to maximize what I have.

The challenge, my internist said, "is getting used to the new normal. There are always going to be challenges and obstacles," but life goes on.

I wish I did not have sarcoidosis, but I must admit that some good has come from the situation. I have learned:

- Patience. 'Now' has always been when I wanted stuff done. Comes from growing up in the wake of the Me Generation, being a daily journalist and a card-carrying member of our instant gratification culture. However, some things, like healing don't happen according to our planned schedules. Healing takes its own time. I have written about that before, but it is hard to accept. Still, I get it. I am getting it very slowly, but I am getting it.

- Humility. I can do this alone with no help from others. That preceding statement is bunk, but I tried to believe it for almost 20 years. Simply put, some things out there are bigger than we are. There are times when we need to help people and times when we need to reach out for help. I was good at helping but not good at asking for or accepting help. That is both selfish and foolish.

- Discipline. One thing I love about daily journalism is immediate deadlines. News stories are worthless if they are not timely. Managing a chronic condition has made me more mindful of being disciplined in my personal life - taking medications on time, monitoring body systems, exercising on a regular schedule. It is a matter of goal setting and prioritizing.

- Strength. I had to go into the reserves to survive the winter of 2008-2009. My sarc symptoms, in fact, were a load to bear from the summer of 2008 through March of 2009, when I finally said "No Mas" like Roberto Duran after his second fight against Sugar Ray Leonard. I sought help because I had to. No other choice. And I am glad I did.

Again, I wish I did not have sarcoidosis but I do see a bit of light in the dark tunnel.

In the new normal, I plan to find a way to make that light shine.

Resisting the call to join the Rude Culture

No, @#$% you, buddy! And get out of my way!

I am on the verge of speaking like this all the time (and using the real F-word, not symbols). I am on the verge of being sucked into what I consider the New Jersey Rude Culture. I am trying to resist the Culture the way a good Jedi fights the pull of the Dark Side of the Force.

Rudeness plagues the nation. Just watch the news and what passes for health care reform debate. Nearly 70 percent of people questioned in a 2005 Associated Press-Ipsos poll said people are ruder than they were 20 or 30 years ago. The poll was referenced in a recent Chicago Tribune article about rude behavior in college classrooms and beyond.

I've been back in New Jersey, the place of my birth, for about six weeks. Here, rude has been elevated to an art form. The mix of foul language, hand gestures and obliviousness of fellow human beings - often fueled by hyper-caffinated drinks - is much more intense here. People who experience it for the first time are often left speechless.

I am experiencing 'Jersey rudeness for the first time in three years. I am often left speechless.

People here shout words that mean nothing into their cellphones, shattering the peace of all around them. Parkway motorists drive their cars up the ass of yours because you are driving 75-80 miles per hour in the slow lane...In the slow lane. People shout you down during conversations to make their point. Loudest and most obnixious wins. They are pains in the butt.

And, I admit with sadness, I can go there. I can definitely act like an asshole, but I try not to. Part of it has to do with getting control of my heart and lung sarcoidosis. I need to cool out and be chill. A calm, relaxed mind is essential to helping the body heal. there is no way around it.

I also think being decent, and respectful is the right thing to do. I see myself as a gentle giant because of nature and nurture. My mom and grandmom taught me to live by the Golden rule. I am a man who tends to keep to himself, minds his manners, keeps the peace and only lifts his hand in defense of the weak. The gentleness thrived to a degree in Greater Lansing, Michigan and Chicago.


I have no illusions about either place. The Midwest has its share of nuts, bullies, bigots, misogynists, all the people we should despise. But Midwesterners are quite polite. They say 'thank you' and 'please' and allow people the right of way. They hold doors for each other, offer to carry this or reach for that. They are respectful of personal space. The smaller the town, the politer they are. In Chicago, I managed a group of reporters who exhibited Type A personality traits. Those reporters could dig for stories and were as relentless as any reporters I've ever worked with, but they were also nice, decent people. They would bare teeth and unsheath talons, but knew how to put them away after hours.

These days, here in New Jersey, the teeth and talons are bared and unsheathed 24-7. (The customer service at Barnes & Noble in Howell, N.J., is a refreshing respite. I give this store props because it is a cool place to write. I love the vibe. Folks there are pretty polite, especially the baristas). And I am assuming that New York and Connecticut are as rude as ever, too. Curiously, you can still find polite people in Manhattan – so many people living there are NOT from there, you know?

I am trying to maintain my public politeness, but the Rude Culture might be winning. Every time I try to get out, it pulls me back in. Warning: I can be a real asshole. My cousin Dwayne likes to say that some folks are not assholes. They are the cheeks, the pimples on the ass, the crack…The entire ass. Yeah, I can be that, I fear.

I just want to be a good guy. I really do. New Jersey, you could really help, you know? Be decent, for crying out loud.

I'll try harder, too.

Stoic realizes he needs people, says 'thank you'

(I shot the updated profile photo last week. It looks weird to me because I am not wearing glasses. I will probably update the photo next week. I will keep the beard. My mom likes it)

I was reluctant to write about my fight against sarcoidosis or to join any on-line support groups that might keep me buoyant during the struggle. Boy was I wrong about both. Writing this blog/column keeps me sane and focused. Writing and sharing is a release valve for me, a guy does not like to reveal personal pain or weakness. It is my nature to conceal it. It is both strength and liability.

It is an asset because I am resilient and can keep pushing forward in the face of adversity. And I mean damn near any adversity. Knock me down and I will get up and I will be stronger because of the experience. However, the ability to hide pain, sadness, distress, etc., also isolates. Sometimes one just needs to fire up a rescue flare or pick up the phone and say, “I am coming home,” or, “I really need your help today.”

I have always admired stoics. One of my first heroes was Mr. Spock from Star Trek. Ruled by logic, not emotion. Loved that about him. I also admired the unflappable captains who went down with their ships or the movie cowboys and soldiers who sucked their teeth and said, “It is just a flesh wound” after taking a shot in the gut.

I can even appreciate the black knight in Monty Python And The Holy Grail...Um, sir, that is more than a flesh wound. Yeah, that needs...treatment...

If the past six months has taught me anything, it is this: I need folks as much as they need me. And that is cool. I need my family. I have seen a marked improvement in my attitude and physical well-being since moving to Lakewood to be with my parents. I can walk a few miles a day, lift weights. I am still…big…My family and friends are sweet. They will not say that I am fat. I am cool with it: I am fat! But a lot of it is prednisone-influenced. I am sure the pounds will come off as I continue the slow tapering off the medication.

I need and appreciate my family and need and appreciate the good people I have met through http://www.inspire.com/. It is a support group for people with sarcoidosis and other autoimmune diseases. My mom suggested I join a support group back in March and I was like, I do not need a support group. I have my family and friends and Northwestern. I do not need anything else.

I was wrong. I did need to connect with people who understand what I am going through because they are in the same situation. And in many cases, some of them are worse off. That makes me more grateful for the small victories I have had over this disease. I know it will be with me for the rest of my life, but I will keep fighting it because, from where I sit, I am not only fortunate to be alive, I am fortunate to be able to walk three miles a day and lift weights. Words can fail to describe what some of my new friends endure. Each one of them is embroiled in a Hamburger Hill-type battle. The enemy that is a disease has the advantage. Yet these people keep in touch with each other via email and message board and keep each other going.

So I decided to take time out to say thank you to the good friends I have met at http://www.inspire.com/. One asked me why I am doing what I am doing. What motivates me to blog and to fight?

I have basic motivations: I want to live, I do it to honor my late brother, Todd (I’m sure I will write more about him later), and I do it for everyone who cannot do it.

Have a great weekend.

Taking advantage of the home field

By the time you read this, I will have kissed the New Jersey Parkway. I will have walked a beach and stared across the Atlantic to the horizon. I will have eaten a handful of the best cranberries in the world.

I am home. New Jersey. The Garden State. ‘Jersey.

For the record, no one I know from here says the line made famous by "comedian" Joe Piscopo: “I’m from ‘Joisey. Are you from Joisey?" There’s more to the state than The Sopranos, the oil tanks and chemical refineries along the northern corridor of the Turnpike, the crook politicians (Illinois, you've got nothing on the Garden State in that department)...

If you’re an out-of-stater, believe what you will. New Jersey has enough people anyway. Stay wherever you are. The mob or the smell might get ya!

I’ve always loved New Jersey, but I have not lived here since the mid-1980s. However, in my fight against sarcoidosis, I have made a tactical decision. I need and want the home field advantage. In sports, the homies have followed their team for years and the crowd is always loyal. Even when they are booing you for doing bad they are waiting for you to do well – and then they cheer loud and hard.

The hometown crowd’s support can spur a team to victory. It can inspire a battered boxer to get off the ropes and dig deep into his reserves to knock out his opponent.

Right now, I need my biggest cheerleaders, my mom and dad. They were eager to have me close so they can monitor my progress and help me in anyway possible. I am grateful – no, I thank God – for my parents. Not everyone has a rewarding relationship with his or her parents. Some folks have no one at all.

I began thinking about this in March after a 10-day hospital stay to deal with flaring pulmonary and cardiac sarcoidosis. I flew home so my folks could see that I was OK.

Everything about my ‘Jersey stay felt right. More than right. It was invigorating, rejuvenating. For the first time in more than 20 years, home was more appealing to me than the open road and new places to live in and see.

I'm tough and have always been able to handle life's challenges. Isolation, illness, pondering career options. Handling each problem on its own? No sweat. Bundle any two together, Bring ‘em on.

The three together? No thanks. Too much. It took me a while to realize it, but there's no shame in needing help and letting folks know it. Especially when you have people who are waiting for you to say the word so they can get involved. Word!

Now, I am no more than an hour or two from my loved ones in the Tri-State area. I’m looking forward to reconnecting with everyone. New York City and Philadelphia are an hour north and south of me, respectively. Greater New Haven, a 2-1/2 drive along tree-lined highways (Take the Garden State Parkway, go across the Tappan Zee Bridge and grab the Hutch north. Don't take the New Jersey Turnpike-Interstate 95 if you can avoid it. Ugly).

I lived in Chicago for the past year. My friends there, especially Megan Cottrell, Felicia Yonter, Steve Barrett, Tyler Via, Tim Yager, Fernando Diaz, Adrian Uribarri, Peter Sachs, Alex Parker, Kim Barrett, Matt Schad, Patrick Boylan (there are others but I hate Academy-award style thanks-yous, so thanks to everyone!) helped me during the most challenging time of my life. I was terrified, confused and alone in March when my sarc went berserk. My friends in Chicago checked on me daily and kept buoyant my spirit. Some drove me around when I could not drive myself. Some made me laugh.

They encouraged me to walk when I wanted to sit and sulk. Especially Megan and Felicia. They made me walk my ass off. I am definitely better off because of that.

They inspired me to recommit to my fiction and this write this blog (but my mom had the idea first, I must say).

My Chicago peeps, I am forever indebted to you and I will be back to visit as often as I can. I want you to visit me, too. The door is always open. You'll always have a place to crash.

But I am excited to be home. I liked kissing the New Jersey Parkway. I like hearing, seeing my mother and father at ease.

I love being home. I feel 10 years younger.

It's never to early to prepare for looming pandemic

(Today is my birthday. I usually don't make a big deal of it, but it is especially sweet considering everything I went through these past few months. I am not celebrating it so much as using it to reflect on the past and plan for the future. I will treat myself to a moment at the beach. I hope your day is a good one, too - David)

Summer has finally hit the East and Midwest. This week, forecasters say we’ll be basking in the bright sun and enjoying temperatures in the mid-80s. Thunderstorms are on the horizon, too.

Between rain drops, we’ll be playing in the parks and beaches and grilling, all under a blazing sun.

Good time to look forward to flu shots. Seriously. There may be big problems looming just over the seasonal horizon.

The annual flu vaccination season begins in September or as soon as vaccine is available and continues throughout the influenza season - December, January and beyond.

The Centers for Disease Control recommend flu shots for the following:

• Children aged 6 months up to their 19th birthday

• Pregnant women

• People 50 years of age and older

• People of any age with certain chronic medical conditions

• People who live with people with certain chronic medical conditions

• People who live in nursing homes and other long-term care facilities

I decided to get vaccinated for the first time back in 2006 after a health scare. I did not get the flu in 2006 and 2007. I am currently taking predinsone to fight a flare up of pulmonary and cardiac sarcodosis. I had been experiencing a serious sarc flare up for about a year before it was properly diagnosed in March (I was first diagnosed in 2005 but it was deemed dormant).

Prednisone is helping with my symptoms, but it and another drug I have been prescribed, methotrexate, suppress the immune system, making the body vulnerable to infections, including the flu. I am particularly concerned about H1N1, the swine flu, which reared its head in April and is expected to return with a vengeance this fall.

I am happy that my docs are reducing the amount of prednisone I am taking, but I want off completely so I can get a flu shot. I am going to talk to them about alternatives just in case and will share that information when I have it.

Health experts fear that H1N1 might spread to nearly every corner of the globe much like the Spanish flu of 1918. The Spanish flu hit in two waves, first in March of 1918 and then in August. By then, it had mutated into a deadlier virus that ultimately killed an estimated 50 million to 100 million people. Most of the victims were health young adults, experts say. That pandemic ended in 1920.

H1N1 is expected to make a return early this fall. In time for school.

The World Health Organization predicts that some two billion people will catch H1N1. The outcome is unpredictable because the strain is new. The healthy, the sick; all are vulnerable to this new strain of flu. If, when, H1N1 returns and if people start to drop like flies, there will be a panic run on vaccine. That will make it more difficult to get shots.

Vaccines will be available for H1N1 and other strains of flu, so more than one shot may be necessary. In layman’s terms, predicting flu outbreaks is tricky, so a couple of vaccines are being prepared.

Do yourself and your loved ones a favor: Get your shot as early as possible. Go to your doc, a clinic, Target, Wal-Mart or wherever shop is set up to administer vaccinations.

Check with your doc to see if you are allergic to egg products – used to make the vaccination. Double-check to make sure there aren't other complications that might prevent you from getting the shot.

But if nothing but planning stands in the way of the shot, mark a calender to get the a flu shot as soon as possible.

While you're at it, remember to wash your hands and cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze. That’s how the deadly virus is spread.

For good of country, embrace debate sparked by prof's arrest at home

(This will be the routine for now on: Health blogs Mondays and Wednesdays.

Free-ranging observations on pop culture, politics and news media on Fridays.

Actually, there is a health-related blurb at the end of this essay.

Read the Friday Special and have a great weekend. Monday: The flu and autoimmune disease)

I applaud President Obama for taking to task the Cambridge, Mass., police officer who arrested Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates after a neighbor’s call about a man breaking into Gates’ home.

It turns out the man was Gates. Guess the neighbors don’t know each other very well.

The cop, Sgt. James Crowley, is white Gates is black (Note to news media: Gates is not just a prominent black professor as so many TV news reporters described him. He is one of the most prominent professors in America and is black. He is one of the best, period. Look him up.

Also, according to published reports, he was able to show ID proving that he was at his home. The prof was arrested for allegedly sassing the cop. The charge was eventually dropped.

According to a Boston Globe report, Obama said race “still haunts us. And even when there are honest misunderstandings, the fact that blacks and Hispanics are picked up more frequently and often time for no cause casts suspicion even when there is good cause. And that’s why I think the more that we’re working with local law enforcement to improve policing techniques . . . the safer everybody is going to be.’’

As a reporter, I covered police in Michigan and New York. As city editor and deputy metro editor, I coordinated police coverage in New Haven and Greater Lansing. I count a couple of police officers as friends and they told me, not for attribution, that cops engage in racial profile. They see it as a necessary evil to get bad guys off the street. Need proof of the racial disparity? See this example. There’s more out there, too.

Crowley’s supporters argue that the cop is not a racist. He taught racial classes on racial profiling at the academy. Cops who are black even vouch for him.

One thing I learned very young is cops are not black, white, red are yellow. They are blue, gray or whatever color uniform they wear. They stick together. They rarely say anything against their brethren even if their brethren are wrong.

Not all, but many hide behind a thin, blue wall of silence.

Obama, who lists Gates as a friend, did not characterize Crowley as racist. Neither would I. But I know that racist acts can be committed by people wearing smiles and speaking in whispers.

At the very least, arresting a man for “breaking” into his home is bad police work. Cops have wide latitude when making arrests. But why not also teach a cop to treat with respect a wrongly indentified “suspect.” Crowley says Gates yelled at him. The instructor did not try to slug the officer. I could understand the arrest if that had occurred.

Perhaps this incident will lead to a bigger and long overdue debate about American racism past and present. Yes, Obama’s election to the White House is a big step in so many ways in this country. But racism and discrimination still exists and they are not going anywhere until we as a nation finally do something about it. The nation has to stop treating it like the ugly family secret that might be forgotten if no one talks about it and openly deal with it.

I wonder: The neighbor who called police on Gates…Would he or she have dialed 9-1-1 if they saw a white man trying to find a way into the house? Or would they have helped him?

Karen Duffy’s rebound

This is a short and sweet salute to Karen Duffy (I had a crush on her back in the day), whose career is proof that people with sarcoidosis can overcome the disease and thrive.

Duffy, a former MTV VJ and Revlon model, was diagnosed with sarcoidosis in the mid-90s. Now she is back hosting a new TV show, Surprise Vacations, on the Fine Living Network at 8 p.m. ET Sundays. Duffy's show gives deserving people a surprise free vacation. She tells USA Weekend that she has been filming the show for the past six months while also studying to be a chaplain at the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. “One of the things we learn is care-taking for the caregiver,” Duffy says, “people who are taking care of a loved one or sick child.”

Duffy, 48, has her own illness to deal with - sarcoidosis is an inflammatory disease affecting her nervous system. It caused partial paralysis. She helps others who are less fortunate. “My parents have always really led by example, (showing) that the only thing worth doing is what you do for others,” Duffy says in a recent interview with USA Weekend.

“I think that has really helped me through my hard times. I mean, my life isn’t perfect and I’ve got to deal with this big lump in my head all the time and deal with chronic pain issues, but I’m so grateful for the days that I feel good,” Duffy says USA Weekend. This fall, Duffy has a small role in Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox, which also stars former boyfriend George Clooney.

Here, she discusses her fight with sarcoidosis as written in her book, “Model Patient: My Life As An Incurable Wise-ass.”

Inspiration from a memory about a cemetery

When I was a child, my dad took the family to Virginia to meet his peeps and to see the land from where his family hails. My brother Todd and I were probably 11 and 13 at the time.

Dad took us to a slave cemetery outside of Bracey, Virginia, where his aunt and uncle owned a farm. I knew little about American slavery back then but I knew it was exploitation and that the conditions under which slaves labored were brutal.

So I was surprised to see tombstones with ages 75 and older.

My father told me that the slave community considered a fellow slave “blessed” when they hit age 75 and deserving of honors, including a proper burial with head stone.

Slaves did not retire. They worked until they died. Some had chronic diseases, including diseases like sarcoidosis... Some of those slaves lived until their 90s, according to their head stones.

Today, Americans on average live 77.6 years, according to figures from National Center for Health Statistics at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The life expectancy of American white males is 76 years compared to 70 years for African-American males.

The life expectancy of American white women is 81 years compared to 76.9 years for American black women.

Humans have lived rich full lives in the face of chronic disease since the dawn of time. I simply intend to be one of them. It is hard work, but working to live is better than doing nothing and waiting to go.

Recovery-wise, my docs and I talk about six months to a year. There is a chance that I might have to continue a maintenance dosage of prednisone, around 10 mgs daily, but I am focused on tapering off to nothing and seeing what it is like.

I was first diagnosed with sarcoidosis in 2005. It was discovered after an x-ray for different problem. There was evidence of sarc in my lungs, but it was dormant back then. Now it rages in my lungs and might affect my heart, too. The treatments, however, are working. I am feeling good, although there are some interesting side effects.

I am hoping to control it again through healthy diet, exercise and supplements. My mom found a homeopathic pharmacist I am going to work with, too. I'm going to look at everything under the sun to lick this thing.

I have read stories about people living with and managing sarcoidosis and other chronic diseases for 25, 30 years, flare-up free. I imagine myself being one of those people. I am trying to live a lifestyle that will help me achieve that goal.

Disease has been around forever and people have lived rich, full lives while dealing with it.

(Note: Thanks, mom, for pointing out the missing pronoun. Even editors need editors...;)

Moon face blues

I have moon face.

I hate it. Specifically, I hate the way I look.

I am taking prednisone to suppress the symptoms of sarcoidosis, a rare autoimmune disease that attacks vital organs. In my case, my heart and lungs.

There is no cure, but it can be controlled by corticosteroids, including prednisone, and chemotherapy drugs, including methotrexate.

I am lucky. I am not suffering through many side effects. Not yet, thank God.

The longer one is on high doses of prednisone and methotrexate, the more at risk one is of severe side effects. We'll see. The goal remains to get off these drugs as soon as possible.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have noticed the moon face side effect. I have a full face anyway, but now it looks like a brown full moon.

So prednisone's side effects include high blood pressure, moodiness, joint soreness, sleeplessness, weight gain….and, moon face…Other stuff, too. Glaucoma...

Too @#$%ing much.

I know that the problem disappears after prednisone treatment is ended, so there is light at the end of the tunnel. But sarc makes one feel like shit anyway. Moon face is just piling on.

I should be grateful that things aren’t worse, but I wish I was going through this during the winter when we were all covered up by hats, sweaters and coats.

The only thing I can do is talk with my docs, keep with the program – I am not quite done with prednisone, although the docs have reduced it from 60 mgs a day to 50.

I plan to see my pulmonologist next week. Perhaps he will see enough progress to reduce the drug to 40 mgs.

I am trying hard to eliminate moon face. People who have had the problem and doctors recommend the following to reduce weight gain while on prednisone:

- Avoid salt

- Avoid alcohol

- Avoid sugar

- Drink plenty of water

- Exercise

The challenge is that the moon face side effect dovetails nicely with the mood-altering side effect. I see my reflection in a mirror and just want to crawl back back into bed.

But I know that I am engaged in a marathon, not a sprint. I have to go through some rough patches to get to the good plains, so...

…I’ll get through it…I’ll get through it…

How do you handle these drug side effects?

Avoiding the smokes, eating the good grub

Why is it the better I feel the more I want to smoke?

I have been dying for a cigarette for days. It must just be the stress of dealing with this sarcoidosis diagnosis, plus other things I'll get into down the road.

Anyway, I have been dealing with the smoke craving through exercising and creative writing. Hard to smoke when you're power walking two miles a day. Not that goofy-stride walk one sees so many doing, but trudging through mud and sand and up hills to maximize the workout. Hell of a lung workout even for the healthy. And I am not 100 percent. I can feel that. But it feels good to breathe heavy and break a sweat.

I feel alive. And fortunate. Every time I go to get checked out at Northwestern Medical Center, I get low because of my condition and circumstances. But then I run into someone who is in a wheelchair and sucking on oxygen, or someone who weighs 100 pounds more than me and is, desperately trying to lose weight.

I thank God that my condition is what it is. I can bear it and get better. I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Besides smoking, the next hardest thing to do is control my desire for food. Prednisone has made me ravenous, 24-7. And I want the worst foods possibly: Salty, fatty and sugary foods. And I wanted them all the time, which is why I went from 290 to 321. But I am finally under control, I think and should be just under 300 on Friday! I will weigh myself and let you know.

Passed a major food test last night. My friends piled into a car and went to Popeye's Fried Chicken. Came back with boxes of fried chicken, fries, big-assed colas. I stayed home and made stir-fry chicken and broccoli, light on the oil. No salt. A dab of oil and pepper, garlic power and Mrs. Dash for flavor. The meal was delicious and satisfying. And will not add to the stomach, ass and thigh fat I am trying to lose.

I am good during the week now, diet-wise. I will reward myself with something fatty this weekend, but I'll be mindful of the calories. But I will be eating someone's fried chicken or a Chicago-style hot dog. Tasty and even decedent is part of living, too.