Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Even My Dog Feels Sorry for Me
Even the dog feels bad for me.
Okay, this picture was actually taken by Jamie, who can always consider photography as a profession if the whole helicopter pilot/blowing shit up thing doesn't work out.
Yeah, I was as surprised as anyone when my doctor said I have pneumonia on Monday. I dragged myself out to my mom's (who does not need to be exposed to any germs) thinking I was just having a really bad fibro flare. But with the sharp pain in my right shoulder and the difficulty catching my breath to get through a sentence, I just wanted to make sure there was nothing major wrong.
Is pneumonia major?
I just saw that a guy I went to high school with is in the hospital with pneumonia. I know pneumonia is what my father's dad eventually died from. So yeah, it's a little scary.
I didn't really think I had any upper respiratory symptoms (although now it certainly seems to be setting in with a cough that makes me want to rip my lungs out of my body. But apparently having severe right shoulder pain can be an indication of gall bladder problems. Oops. Had that out in 2007.
Combined with shortness of breath, the doctor made sure that my lung hadn't collapsed again and immediately pronounced, "You have pneumonia. It's a good thing you came in." I almost fell off the table. That might have been the dizziness and the brightness of the overhead light, but I believe it was actually shock.
So here's the thing with chronic illness. If your body is telling you something not quite normal for you is going on, you need to listen to your body. I'm just grateful I caught it before it developed into something hospital worthy.
The big bummer out of this is that Justin will be taking the kids down to his mom's and cooking Thanksgiving dinner down there and I will be staying here because I am just not up to the trip. Before you feel too sorry for me, remember I will be getting the house to myself for several hours (although probably in bed or on the couch) and that we will be making a complete Thanksgiving dinner for my parents here on Sunday. I'm even going to try to make a no-cook peanut butter/chocolate/cream cheese pie. Usually Mom does the pies, but they have company coming in for a couple of days and I don't want her up and making pies and stressing that she needs to get them done, no matter how much I love her pie crust.
Long story short (can I even do that?), it looks like I will be recovering for a few days (hopefully only a few days) and I haven't gotten much Christmas shopping done. It also means that I will be missing out on the regular Thanksgiving festivities (because I would never suggest that Justin not go to his mom's this year and the kids want to see their grandma and great-grandma). Hopefully, this whole being sick thing will be history in a week and I can get back to my own version of normal.
In the meantime, if I am not responding to emails/Facebook/blogs, etc...it's because I'm in the prone position on the heating pad for the shoulder pain. I was thinking today how handy my Kindle Fire is going to be on those days that it's too much work to put the laptop on my lap.
Justin says Apple is doing Black Friday deals online and he gets a 20% discount on all of their products through his company. Plus, a new computer for us is a write off, since he can use it for work. Not to mention that I am trying to get a writing career off the ground here. Can you write off something you buy to work on if you're making absolutely no money at it?
Okay, back to the couch and the heating pad. I had to stop reading The Executioner's Song because it was actually very poorly written and just uninteresting. Right now, I need mind candy. I'm switching off of the award winners for just a bit until I feel better. I gave Norman Mailer 200 pages and two days of my life, so next time I won't try to force it if it's just not a good read. I don't care how many awards this guy won. He can't write. As Justin said, "It's dreck."
Happy Thanksgiving and I will be back as soon as I can remain upright for any extended period of time without feeling like I need an immediate nap. In my soup.