Friday, I tweeted that my 2 week old cold with fever was rounding a bend–towards health because I was beginning to look and sound even worse. There’s a local colloquialism about illness that follows the ‘darkest before the dawn’ mentality: ‘when it seems worse, you’re actually on the mend.’
How’s that for positivity/ self-deception?
I had more energy, though, and that was encouraging, until a few hours later, when I half-fainted (desk rising up to meet my face) at work. I pushed through and got home. A few hours even later, I started emitting chunks of red along with the green. It was like Christmas in September! I had rounded a bend but it wasn’t towards health.
At 11PM Friday, I acknowledged that I was well and truly Sick and needed to go to doctor as soon as possible. When I get this level of infection, it has twice gone into bacterial pneumonia. Pneumonia is not fun but it’s Friday freaking night! Not a lot of options.
Having gone through 5 heart attacks and stents for up-propping, we knew to go to hospital. It got worse on the way (dad didn’t want to dial 911/ get an ambulance — don’t even bother trying to make sense to him) and we stopped at the nearest-to-us ambulance outpost. They pitched him in the bus, him likey or no.
Saturday, upon virtually no sleep, fever and emitting clots of blood myself, I drove to town and back three times. This equalled 6 hours commuting. At least I got an RX out of the deal.
I slept 3 hours last night (double what I’ve been getting), with the longest episode clocking in just under an hour. This is good because any sleep is good. I’d be in bed still but again, I’m afraid of getting pneumonia again.
Spike? He’s out hunting with the boys.
If I weren’t so sick, I’d have had the brain power to say, ‘Get Brother to do it.’ He lives 25 minutes interstate drive further than the hospital. The only thought I gave towards him: ‘he’s trying to get a promotion. He has to be at work.’
I may not go into my job tomorrow — which is too bad as that means I don’t get paid.
Brother? He’s enjoying his Sunday.
I’m trying to get oxygen into my blood stream.
* It was atrial fibrillation, which a friend recently dealt with — about 15% of people round about 80yo have it. It’s electrical, by nature.
They were able to medicate him (slow the flutter), dosed him with Coumadin to avoid clots (your big concern with a fib) and kept him til Saturday afternoon (we got home a little after 18:30). He’s on an RX newer than C. that starts with an X. It doesn’t require frequent blood tests (as C does) yet keeps blood from clotting.
The doctor gave Spike crap about having CAD, a history of heart attacks and still smoking: ‘You’re too old to not know right from wrong.’
Dad: ‘Can’t wait to get home to drink some beer and smoke.’
Lily: ‘And listen to loud rock and roll.’