And so ends the Week of the Crazy Clients, with a wholly appropriate visitation from a client who supplied parameters for me to calculate how much of their product we needed and then when I delivered the number said, "Please use these numbers instead."
James called. He did go to the doctor, and thanked me for recommending he do so. His pancreatitis is indeed back. The doctor was very good, he said; was going to work with him as much as possible to save him money and get his insurance to pay for what needs to be paid for, when he gets it; and is going to recommend him for a study that will offer, for free, exactly what he needs to get a diagnosis and a determination for next steps. Depending on what's causing it, he may need gall bladder removal surgery, genetic testing, and/or a lifetime's supply of pain meds. But at least they're going to figure it out.
Also apparently his cholesterol is a little high, which is probably reasonable since he tells me meat is his one unalloyed joy in life lately, and so he's trying to figure out how he can possibly avoid fat. I've volunteered to send him some recipes and meal ideas. This ought to be fun. He's told our parents about this part, so they're making a bunch of chicken and pork for him. I'll gently remind Mom that it wouldn't hurt to supply him with some of the vegetable stirfries and noodle dishes and pickles and such that he loves, either.
As I was pacing around my boss's office (he was gone, and James called in the middle of the afternoon) talking to James about pancreatic stents and idiopathic etiology and cholesterol and food preparation, it struck me how very well my experiences have prepared me for exactly this situation. Too bad it's not me instead of him...I guess. "The doctor said, 'Yeah, it's pancreatitis again. Good news: you were right!'" James said.
I have found two pumpernickel recipes I really want to try. One takes no yeast, which I'm slightly suspicious of. I might give it a pinch of sourdough starter at the least. (It sits for 24 hours, so presumably there's some fermentation going on anyway.) I ordered yeast from King Arthur ($12 for a pound, including shipping; the 4 oz. bottles in Kroger are $7) and some pumpernickel flour. It is not my last indulgence of the weekend; there's a fiber fair in Findlay tomorrow and I’m going. Our tax refund came today, so I feel okay about that. Maybe I'll send James some bread.