Italia and a bit of medical update

Greg took me to Rome.


Ever since I can remember -- perhaps since I first read picture books about St Francis of Assisi, or learned where the pictures of my favourite Christmas cards came from -- I've wanted to go to Italy. And we have have now had our first taste: too short, yet very good. Rome is only an hour and a half away by plane...a fact so hard to process for North American sensibilities! If time and money were no factor...
but, I guess 'factors' are often good things in the big picture....
(overindulgence being ever a temptation...)

I think, be it 2 1/2 days or 2 1/2 months, Rome is a little overwhelming. It is so very Full. I'm afraid I shan't write much about our experience, because that would take many ponderous paragraphs (!) -- we'll proffer a few photos instead.

Highlights? Food, of course. Our very first item of food on Italian soil was deep-fried zucchini (corgette) flowers, stuffed with cheese and a hint of anchovies -- fantastic! Our hotel was in what the chap at the desk called, 'The Kingdom of Lunches.' And in the evenings 'Travestere' was alive with restauranteering life.



Our palates were in a constant state of celebration...and somehow we always managed to find room for gelati.














And, the Vatican museum was incredible...but there was just too little time. And so there was so much in it that we did not see...some of what I hoped for the most was shut due to flooding! (Michaelangelo and Raphael are stunning, but I must admit, I am a Giotto girl...)







And while we marvelled at some of the most famous pieces, we were often struck by things previously comepletely unknown to us.






















Neither of us warm to the excesses of Baroque, and without question my favourite church of those we saw in Rome was the quiet Santa Maria Travestere, the oldest church in Rome, with beautiful mosaics. I think this was the first time I have seen a picture of Christ with his arm around his mother Mary.
I liked it.

















It'd be fun to give commentary to all these pictures, but I'll restrict to just this: the fruit in the photo? It's marble. Seriously. All marble (well, the grapes are alabaster). We, and plenty of others, were absolutely amazed. You had to pick it up to believe it....bizarre.







































































































































































Now, for the less exciting. Feel free to check out at this point!

Our health: we've promised a few of you that we would have posted an update by now. Sorry it's taken so long.

Greg's situation continues complicated, so we are hesitant to write much at the moment. He will be seeing a UK doctor in the next month, for an 'outside opinion' on the method of surgery with which to advance....but....
there has been the very tiniest, most subtle of changes in Greg's face of late. Greg went to see his physiotherapist who, first and foremost, said that it is way too early for his doctors to be considering reconstructive surgery. So, yet another new opinion. But we were anxious to know what he thought about what we thought was a slight change. He agreed that there is a very slight change, but that because it has only shown up now, so late, and because of the manner of change, it is impossible to tell at this point whether it is actually a good thing or a bad thing. It may be the beginning of a little bit of nerve regrowth (and if it is, it may only happen a little bit, especially as it has taken so long to begin), or, it may be a type of parasitic muscle movement that sometimes happens. If it is the latter, this is not at all a good thing, and will, in and of itself, require intervention to kill off the movement which could spread and begin to pull Greg's face in an awkward direction. And all that can be done at the moment is to watch and wait.
So, you see, it is slightly awkward news, news we are hesitant to share -- for there's a temptation to get excited and hopeful, but it's balanced by the possibilities of even worse complications. It's not something Greg even, understandably, really wants to talk about right now. After all, there is nothing more that can really be said. Only time will tell.

On the RA front, my recent check-up with the consultant was a little more sober than we expected. Although my body over all continues to be everso much better than it was -- still no reverting to the wheelchair...(there's no way I could have seen Rome a year ago without it, though admittedly my feet were constantly making themselves known) -- there are 3 joint areas which are not at all good. Right wrist and tendons (unfortunately for writing, typing, etc), left elbow, left ankle. But the doctor thought that they were more than just 'a bother' -- he was really concerned at how bad they were. He upped my steroid dose to twelve times the normal, for a week, to try to get things better controlled. It worked, more or less, but wasn't pleasant. Then he told us that I'd be getting full body x-rays in December to check the rate of deterioration, but that he thought that it was quite possible that damage was still happening fast enough that they might decide to put me on the yet latest drug available here: Rituxan/Rituximab.
This drug, like one of the others I am on, has traditionally been used for cancer treatments -- but it has been discovered to make a big difference for some RA patients. It is administered intravenously. It would be combined with most of the other things I am already on. It'd be great if it worked; it's frustrating to not have proper use of my hand so much of the time. And obviously the long term picture is important -- the doctor said to us something like, 'you do realize that with you the disease is quite agressive' -- but the thought of starting yet a new drug, with new side-effects, new long-term unknowns, is less than appealing. Yet with this too, at least for now, we sit and wait...

And, in the midst of it, continue to be grateful for so much. Although these 'bodily complications' do affect our every day, and how we make our way through it -- and some days more than others -- they do not overcome our days. They are a part of who we are now, but, truly, only a part. And we continue to learn how to 'live well' with our imperfections, our challenges...as do many of you. Indeed, many of you continue to show us, help us, how better so to do.