Activity key to less fluid

Just returned from Mom's visit with her oncologist, Dr. Grainger. The appointment was scheduled to keep an eye on the fluid buildup around the lungs -- plural effusion, I believe is the official term. We're all wanting the breathing thing to be natural and easy, rather than clogged and requiring artificial assistance. 

There was some preliminary talk of tapping the lung to drain fluid, but we've ruled that out -- at least for now. Dr. Grainger wants mom to increase her activity level a bit. Doing so should help the fluid to drain naturally. It'll take some time, but Mom likes this option better than having the lung tapped. I've never had my lung tapped (I've tapped a few kegs in my time but that's it for the tapping) but I must say I'd be a bit hesitant about that, too. 

You can tell Dr. Grainger likes Mom. She's so inquisitive and engaged in why things happen that you couldn't help but feel for a doctor having to explain everything. He handles all Mom's questions with a calm demeanor (the opposite of calm boys and girls is Dad trying to navigate the tight parking in front of the office between a mailtruck, people walking around and a big pickup truck waiting to get through -- all the while Mom's saying "Get me outta here!") and a caring tone.  

We stopped and got Subway for lunch. Mom had a roasted chicken sandwich on toasted flatbread with provolone cheese, lettuce and olives. She's really into the flatbread and talks about the times she and Dad would shop at the North Market for Indian flatbread. (dot not feather). 

Mom noticed all the buildings that have changed while we drove through Westerville. Dad and I haven't noticed all the change, but Mom's right, much has changed. She talks about Rofini's Pizza having Little Caesar's Pizza move in right next store. 

"The last time I was in there he was yelling at the woman and I didn't appreciate it," Dad recalls about Rofini's, the longtime favorite pizza joint. "I'm not sure if she's his wife or what but I haven't been back since." 

Mom wants to play pinochle. Dad wins. I suck.