On this site which houses my personal blog, I have a bunch of posts kept in draft format, from times when I felt like I needed to blog, but never found the time to write and publish. This is just one of those many posts. I’ll come back and cover this in more detail if and when the time and feeling takes me. But, this was supposed to be a post wrapping up the year 2018. Now, most of the topics here in this draft seem irrelevant.
Certainly a lot happened in 2018 but the crowning jewel of the year was definitely my admission to hospital on Christmas Eve. A doctor at my current surgery missed Pneumonia when I went for a checkup literally days before. Go home he said, rest and it will pass on its own. (A cold) he diagnosed. Less than 4 days later I was losing consciousness and in the back of an ambulance. Admitted to hospital on Christmas Eve and at 3am Christmas Morning I was found a bed on a respiratory ward. I was placed in a ward with five other patients as they had no idea what was wrong with me.
At 6am Christmas Morning I was transferred to a private room. This was because they found pneumonia and I was infectious to other patients. I heard the room I was in had to be closed and disinfected before the other five patients could return to it. Popular I was not. But I didn’t know about any of this, I was very much in and out. I was on oxygen and levels were low. But I was starting to feel better. I was in hospital till either just before or just after new year, I forget now. It was a period of around a week anyway. During this time any visitors who came had to protect themselves by wearing face-masks, spit-guards and gowns. Can you imagine my Mother’s reaction to this? If I ever find any writings on this ‘dark episode’ in my life I will revisit and follow up.
On the day of my release, before I could go I was subjected to one more test. One which I thought I was a good 10-20 years away from needing… A finger up the bum test. How embarrassing.. Right? Now add to that the test was performed by a very attractive (and also embarrassed) medical student and her intern! Oh the joy of my life. The reason for the test? To see if there was anything up there that would have explained a ‘borderline’ low iron level in my blood. It took me a good few months to really start to feel better. Following the hospitalisation I was breathless very quickly and in turn tired very quickly too. It was recovery from my foot operation all over again really. It was bed rest and injections. It was disappointments and let downs. It wasn’t a good time. It took a long time to stop feeling breathless.
It was a hard time, and not just on me, my Mother felt it hard for me too. I was her main method of transport and I wasn’t enjoying being out. I also feel I wasn’t getting better quickly enough also sometimes. It couldn’t be helped but there was times I did feel guilty for not wanting to be out. Someday’s I just wanted to rest. Mum understood this, but then there again was ‘another thing’ that had to be understood. It was better when I was better.
As we are now getting into the year of 2019, I will wrap this one up here. I will revisit if the time and feeling needs.