So, it wasn't sarcoidosis. It's another exotic disease I'm suffering from: histoplasmosis, which is a fungal infection in my lungs. Sarcoidosis is treated by steroids. Guess what steroids do? They cause fungal infections to grow like wild! So, that's why my lungs were suddenly in crisis, and why I had to be rushed to the hospital.

There are several people, or teams of people who saved my life. One was a pulmonologist down at Sentara Norfolk General Hospital who was monitoring the video screens that show what's going on in all the Sentara ICUs. (Did you know that monitoring is going on? I didnt.) Anyway, he saw what was happening up here and called my pulmonolgist and said I needed to have a lung biopsy, and, since the Williamsburg hospital doesn't have a chest surgeon, could I be moved to Norfolk? (As it turned out, the chest surgeon didn't do the lung biopsy, because he didn't think I would survive the surgery.)

So -- the next team of people who saved my life were the pulmonary doctors and therapists who kept me going on the ventilator to give time for the infectious disease doctors, who were trying to figure out what was wrong with me without the information that would've been provided by a lung biopsy. Patty told me that, for two days, they had the ventilator set at 100% oxygen because my lungs were just unable to function.

The third group is that team of infectious disease doctors (I hasten to repeat what you've heard before: no one can "catch" histoplasmosis from me. But I was infected from somewhere; we'll never know where ...) There's one doctor in particular, Dr. Flenner, who "thought outside the box," to use a tired cliche, and who thought of a malady much more common in the midwest. (In fact, histoplasmosis is also called "the Ohio River Valley disease.") A urine test showed immediately and conclusively that that's what they were dealing with. At the time I was receiving IV drugs to fight eight potential diseases, and some of those drugs, of course, counteracted the drugs that they now had to give me for the histo ... Medical practice is as much an art as a science, and I am blessed by God that such a wonderful artist as Doctor Flenner was on my case. (He should be held up to medical students as the model of what a doctor should be. He is such a gentle, naturally humble guy. One time he came in to see me the day after Thanksgiving, when my kids were there, and I offered introductions and told my kids, "This guy is a genius." Dr. Flenner was embarrassed, with many words denying such a thing!)

It's very scary to write all of this. I had no idea that I was in such crisis. I don't remember anything of that first week or two because I was sedated so heavily. That's a good thing, I think. All I know is what Patty and doctors and therapists have told me.

But that's past. Now I'm recovering! Thanks be to God!

Today Patty washed my hair over the kitchen sink, and I got in the bath tub to wash the rest of me. The whole process took an hour and wore me out. But I'm wearing clothes today for the first time in more than a month, and I'm clean and shaved. It sure feels good!

I've been told to expect the recovery of my lung capacity and energy to last through the month of January. Wow. I'm working on paperwork for an excellent feature that the ELCA Board of Pensions offers, for "short term disability," which offers subsidy for a substantial amount of my compensation, allowing the congregation to engage temporary interim pastoral coverage.

I'm going to stop because simply writing all of this has used up my energy. During these days of recovery I'll be doing what I can do with what periods of energy I have, and then stopping when my body tells me to. Right now I think I'll take a nap. Thank you for your love and prayers.