Diagnosis

Disease-wise, Jip continues to be no worse than she was in Seattle. A nurse friend of ours wrote to say that "no worse" really means "better," with all the transitions we’ve had. Jip's emotions still ride the roller coaster, however.

Last Monday morning, Halloween, her first words to me were, “Trick or treat?” Big grin. I thought, “Gonna be a good day.” I was glad, because we’d been seeing a few symptoms that pointed to a possible bladder infection. When Jip has had those symptoms in the past, the uncertainty has usually made her agitated and a little obsessive.

But she wasn’t concerned last week. I suggested we take a urine sample to the hospital to be tested. Jip said, “Why? I’m taking d-mannose.” This is a powder she swears by, which apparently coats the bladder walls with something slippery, making it tough for bugs to grab hold.

Despite Jip’s confidence, I brought a urine sample to the lab. It came back clean. The doc diagnosed the problem as “husband without enough to worry about.” Which I suppose is the right kind of problem.