London, Covid, vocal cord issues, and another scan

It's been an active summer.  In early June my 88 year old mother flew up from Florida and spent two months in Utah, where she lived for 50 years. She split time between my place and my brother's home in Park City. She is doing remarkably well for her age, and was able to catch up with friends and extended family. She wanted to go for lots of rides in the Vanderhall, which was great except for the extraction at the end of the ride. After a couple of times, she decided she'd had enough of that kind of fun. When she flew home in early August, we had the feeling that this might be her last trip to Utah. 

In early July I flew to London to join a 10 day tour sponsored by my undergraduate alma mater, the University of Utah. Our group of 15 retirees saw and discussed six plays in London's West End: To Kill A Mockingbird; Jerusalem; The Southbury Child; As You Like It; That Is Not Who I Am; and Jack Absolute Flies Again. We also enjoyed some excellent meals and did some behind-the scenes sightseeing. It was a great trip, marred only by my positive Covid-19 test the day I flew back to SLC. I followed the protocols, got Paxlovid, self-isolated for 5 days, tested negative, masked for another 5 days. It turned out to me similar to a chest cold. Being quadruple vaccinated was the difference-maker. 

An ongoing issue has been my dealing with my frozen left vocal cord. It's been like that for more than a year. I've noticed that it's been hard to get enough oxygen into my lungs when I'm engaged in physical activity, such as hiking, skiing in deep powder, running, or even walking up a bunch of stairs. In March I got some injections to help compensate, and that helped a bit. A few weeks ago, I had a frightening experience. Here's the email that I sent to my ENT at 3 am:

“I nearly died this morning. About 45 min ago I woke up gasping for breath. Both vocal cords has frozen mostly closed. I was wheezing, gasping, coughing, and getting lightheaded. I was about to call 911 but realized I couldn’t speak. I looked heavenward and shouted God help me several times. I felt one of my vocal cords relax and immediately started burping excess air from my lungs, which further helped force open my vocal cords and made it easier to breathe. Immediate crisis resolved. I’m left with a banging headache, I still can’t breathe through my nose,  and I’m very concerned about the next time. Brilliant diagnosis and inspired effective therapeutic intervention eagerly awaited. Thanks, Ken”

My ENT decided that this was a laryngeal spasm, perhaps caused by acid reflux, and enhanced by my frozen vocal cord and the injections. So now I'm taking a PPI antacid and am scheduled for several sessions with a speech pathologist to learn how (in her words) to breath and talk. This adventure is no different from all the other challenges I've faced: adjust to the new normal, understand my limitations, and roll with it. 

A couple of weeks ago I went on a 4 day with my motorcycle group, the Temple Rider's Association. We rode to the Four Corners area, riding at least two of Butler Maps' Yellow (G1) roads each day. 1200 miles later I was back hope with a bit of sunburn, chapped lips, and ready to soak in my hot tub. I also joined my friends for the Utah Shakespeare Festival in Cedar City, where we saw The Tempest, King Lear, and All's Well That Ends Well.

Last week I had another set of scans. Everything was unremarkable, which continues to be remarkable. No evidence of metastatic cancer. My doctor noted that, after two years of NED, usually the frequency of scans would be extended. But we agreed that, in view of my history of cancer returning, keeping the scans at 12 weeks would be prudent. So I get to keep staggering on.