We are at the Cleveland Clinic waiting to see a surgeon, although we don’t see the gastroparesis specialist until Wednesday, so there won’t be a decision about surgery today, if at all.
It was a 950 mile drive, mostly a blur of freeway concrete. In Ohio we did see Omish people leaving a Sunday worship. Last time I saw that many black coats was a Johnny Cash concert.
Less than five minutes later we saw a sheriff’s car slam into an elderly lady’s car. He was speeding to catch a speeder and caught the Lady on her way home instead.
The Cleveland Clinic is huge. Think five or six UAMS campuses. Maybe more. It is raining so the best thing so far is the valet parking. Hope that is the least good thing that happens this week.
Rachel, who doesn’t complain and spends every free minute working, has a four hour gastro emptying test on Friday, which means no vomiting for four hours, or at least, how do I say this, not let it leave her body.
I’m just going to put it bluntly, this disorder sucks, and I’m not the one who has it. Yet, she doesn’t whine or complain. She’s going to work tomorrow, I think I’m going to take a drive south to the NFL Hall of Fame in Canton.
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