The good news: I don’t have urethral cancer. The bad news: My body has sprung a leak — a small stage II pressure sore erupted overnight into a complex stage IV sore. While all seemed well on the surface — even to home health nurses — undermining and tunneling had been doing its dirty work unseen. Many of you know the prognosis: months confined to bed, followed by flap surgery and more months in bed. So now, instead of worrying that cancer may kill me in less than a year, I get to watch my quality of life slip away, day by day, for several months.
Whoever came up with “bed rest” as a medical treatment? The same doctors who believed in bloodletting? Many of you know the effects of prolonged down time: loss of