That Old Gut Feeling, The Kind That Has To Be Surgically Removed
I had posted this on Twitter Friday, but it was pointed out to me that not all our Ordinary Times friends are on there, and with Rufus mentioning my health issues in his excellent Sunday post, it feels appropriate and necessary to repost the same note/announcement/explainer here. Plus, a more OT specific note at the bottom.
My Friends,
So…
Today (Friday, 10Mar23) was the day that I’ve waited for many years to happen. You may or may not know I have my share of health issues. That tale is too long, boring, and insufficiently uplifting to rehash here. Suffice it to say, while the results of today’s procedure at Duke were not good news, it was not a surprise either for the most part. Originally, I was supposed to be doing surgery back in January, but after much discussion neither my surgery team nor I could get a warm fuzzy about proceeding with the options we had before us, so we decided to do another endoscopy so the surgeon could see for himself changes. A scheduling change beyond our control pushed it from last month until this morning. Finding “the worst esophagus I’ve ever seen” as he put it was not a surprise, nor was the news that the damage/deterioration in there is beyond what meds and treatment are going to be able to do anything about.
The rapidly growing mass in my stomach that wasn’t there for the last scope a few months ago was a surprise.
While we will be doing another endoscopic ultrasound and waiting for the various biopsies to come back on both stomach and esophagus, it doesn’t really matter as that’s all formality now. Sometime in the coming weeks we will again consult and come up with a surgery plan to remove the stomach and as much of the esophagus and anything else in there that is problematic.
My plan is to continue to do what I can while I can, and then do surgery, rehab it, and get back to work as soon as possible. But I also must be realistic about what’s going on. I’ll write as I can, both in Ordinary Times, Fayette Tribune, and elsewhere, and do some media as I can, continue to work with Young Voices, keep some speaking commitments through the end of this month I’ve already scheduled, and so forth. But, the everyday work of doing Heard Tell is going to have to pause for a bit. Two reasons: one is that program just isn’t possible without a strict production schedule for both guests and myself that requires planning, lead time, and guaranteed availability that I just can’t do for the foreseeable future, and two it isn’t fair to my radio partner and others that support the program to be inconsistent. We will get back to it after surgery, and there is a lot in the archives and might do some specials or something in the meantime. Of course, the great joy that is Tweeting with all of you and doing things like #twittersupperclub I’ll keep doing.
So, in summary, if you don’t see me around as much, you know why. If you see me around, know it is because I’m fighting hard to not only maintain, but to get back to the things that have become very meaningful for me in writing, media, and the other things I’ve been very blessed and privileged to do the last few years. And, once this is behind us, hopefully achieve and do even more in the future.
Courage now, onward.
Now — Ordinary Time-wise — Will, Em, Michael, and a few others have been in on the health news loop for a while, and we’ve known there was coming time when I wasn’t going to be able to carry the ball like I have for the last few years. I mentioned to some of you when I had to ask to be excused from Leaguefest DC back in the fall that this was coming, and so here we are. So, we have a plan in place to keep things running even if I go down for a while. The biggest thing folks can do is to help me and them is to do what you always do; write, submit, comment, share the work of those that do, and keep Ordinary Times the special place that it is. And as soon as they let me have my laptop back post-surgery, I’ll be writing as many various of “does he have the stomach for this still…” type puns as I can muster.
I have gotten far more from this place and you folks than I could ever possibly give, and it is a privilege and honor to get to write, edit, collaborate, and be a part of Ordinary Times. I plan on continuing to do so for as long as I am able.
Now, that’s enough of that. Get back to writing, far more important things going on in the world.
– Andrew
Andrew, I am absolutely heartsick to read this. I am praying the surgery goes well and that your recovery is very smooth. Thinking of you…Report
Oh, Andrew. That’s awful. Good luck.
Maribou and I are rooting for you.Report
Same. That exactly.Report
Sorry to hear this. Your writing will be missed.Report
I’m so sorry to hear this. You’ll be in my prayers.Report
No sir, I dissent. Nothing is more important. We are a community, and you are a prominent member of it. Yes, we will write. Yes, we will discourse. But no, we’ll not put you far from our minds. You’ve given much to this community, and the least we can do to pay you back is put you in our thoughts and wishes and intentions, and for those who pray, our prayers.
You fight this thing with both hands and every weapon available. We’ve got your back, Andrew.Report
Cosign 100%.Report
Same here.Report
I’m ill to my own stomach reading this. I send all my best wishes for you to whup this thing- and handily.Report
Sorry to hear about this, wishing you best of luck in your surgery and a swift recovery.Report
I’m so sorry to read this update, Andrew. Had no idea you were dealing with something like this – and that’s a testament to your spirit and work ethic. Stay strong, Mountaineer.Report