Its song of origin (“Goodnight Vienna”) isn’t much, but that line is one of my all-time favorite John Lennon lyrics.<\/p>\n
I’m about to burrow deeply into the next *Doctor Fate* script, and it may be a week or so before I resurface, but I wanted to get that post about my health out of the way first. This is it.<\/p>\n
There are, shall we say, a few problems:<\/p>\n
First, as some of you guessed from earlier posts, I have a condition called ulcerative colitis. I’ll spare you a long (and extremely gross) description of the condition. You can read what the Mayo Clinic has to say about it here<\/a>. For those who’d rather not, just think of UC (coincidentally, also the initials of my high school) as the nuclear version of irritable bowel syndrome. That sounds like a joke, I know, but when it’s in a “flare”, UC can be utterly debilitating. Fortunately, mine has been almost completely under control for the past year or so.<\/p>\n Second, as I’ve related here, I have coronary artery disease<\/a> — built-up gunk in the arteries, basically — which was treated late last year by the insertion of stents to clear the blockage and let the blood flow freely again. All indications are that the procedure was successful. On my recent trip to L.A., I underwent a cardiac stress test and an EKG, and the results were good.<\/p>\n What I haven’t mentioned is why I underwent the angiogram I also have a disease called pulmonary fibrosis<\/a>. It’s a progressive condition which, over time, essentially turns the inside of the lungs to scar tissue, rendering the patient unable to breathe, resulting in — well, you know, that thing that never quite happens permanently in comics anymore. In about 40% of cases, the cause of pulmonary fibrosis is unknown. I’m one of the 40%. (Irony of ironies, mine has nothing to do with smoking.) There is no cure. Detected in its earliest stages, some forms of pulmonary fibrosis can be slowed by medication, but the doctors think mine, which was diagnosed in September of ’05, has been working its nasty little magic for at least seven years. Though it’s now in its final stages, it’s remained fairly stable since it was diagnosed. It may continue to progress very slowly, or it may suddenly become much more aggressive; there’s no way to predict which course it will take.<\/p>\n Although the condition is incurable, some pulmonary fibrosis patients make good candidates for lung transplant<\/a> surgery. The folks at UCLA’s Lung Transplant Center seem to think I’m one of those. I’ve passed all the tests so far. I need to get some dental work done before I can be put on the transplant list. (I know. That sounds like a joke, too, but oral infections can be extremely virulent, and any transplant procedure involves severely damping down the immune system to prevent rejection of the foreign tissue.) After that, of course, it becomes a waiting game.<\/p>\n I’m going into these matters at such length for a couple of reasons. For one thing, I promised I would. For another, I want to acknowledge the help I’ve received from several sources during what has been, as you might imagine, a stressful time. I’m hugely grateful to friends like Mary Skrenes, Harris Miller, and Bret Walker, who’ve assisted with everything from keeping landlords happy to getting me to and from airports on time. I also want to thank The HERO Initiative<\/a>, “the first-ever federally chartered not-for-profit corporation dedicated strictly to helping comic book creators in need”, according to the organization’s website. HERO, whose board is composed of people who’ve spent their careers either in comics or loving them, has helped not only myself but many, many other creators. It deserves your support. Check out the website<\/a> for more information.<\/p>\n I debated with myself whether or not to allow comments on this message. I decided yeah, I would, but please folks — don’t get morose or teary — and above all, just in case anyone’s tempted, do not<\/em> accuse me of courage in the face of adversity. I’m scared shitless. (And no, it’s not because of the colitis.) So let’s all keep it real, okay?<\/p>\n Okay, that’s it. I’m digging in on *Doctor Fate*, and I’ll see you all when I can come up for a little daylight again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Its song of origin (“Goodnight Vienna”) isn’t much, but that line is one of my all-time favorite John Lennon lyrics. 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\n<\/a> that discovered the blockage.<\/p>\n