Assessment

Sunday we leave Dallas for Peoria. Eight hundred miles. It is taking all of my strength to prepare for this journey. I no longer eat. My nourishment is provided through a Lopez valve attached to a PEG feeding tube lanced through my flesh and my stomach wall. A small water filled balloon prevents the tube from pulling out and a rubber washer prevents it from sliding in. Simply cinch the two together and you're ready to go. The hole heals and soon you can replace the tube with a larger one by stretching the port site, deflating the balloon, pulling out the tube to be replaced and finishing up with the new, larger ingesting hose. I find myself using my Trilogy breathing device more often each day. Sometimes I'm short of air and the forced flow helps to move my diaphram and give me relief. I currently use a nose inhaler because my gnarly ass beard causes too many leaks for proper function of a full face mask. 

Sleeping is still an issue. On a good night I wake up every hour and a half, transfer from bed to chair three times round trip and pee three times. On a bad night I'm up every half hour, transfer five or more times and pee every hour. We are finding some success with a new combination of products.

I'm drooling like a mastiff.

My gut still has problems, but we are gaining on them.

I can't imagine the agony of those with ALS who don't have the intimate, selfless dedication of my loving wife. She is always with me. I am blessed.

Who will I see in Peoria? I'm the really screwed up guy in the wheelchair.