Sick-bed to ER to Well-dom

 Just over a week ago, I spoke too soon about feeling better. I thought I had the flu bug licked. Until I didn't. My fever came back to visit a couple of times then, just when I thought I really was getting better, one night my throat started hurting and I felt as if it were trying to close up. I took some aspirin and went to bed. 

Oh, Lord. What if I really am sicker than I think? What if I ignore this the way I ignored the sarc and it gets worse? What if I suffocate in my sleep?

Yeah. My anxiety kicked in the door and I imagined being found dead in my apartment. My messy apartment. 

I have a thing about keeping my place neat. I'm not fanatical about it but when your living space is as small as mine is, the least bit of clutter or thing out of place can resemble a scene from that show about hoarders. Seriously. So the only place I let things pile up is either on my bed or at my writing desk. And by "piling up", I mean having my computer, writing paper and pens, and some post-its taking up space. Since I'd been sick, I was keeping all that stuff on the little bed-tray-table thingie I have on one side of the bed. And because I was sick, there were some extra items on the bed - tissue, nose-spray, my pill organizer, a couple of bottles of water, and my Bible. There was barely room in the Queen-sized bed for my body.

The body that my family was going to find dead. In my messy apartment.

from the King Street Gallery
Wish I could afford a copy!

Not only was my bed a mess but so was the kitchen. Again, small space and things out of place. My kitchen is so small that I have to store my toaster on top of the fridge with I'm not using it. All I'd been doing since the bug had bitten me was fixing toast, coffee, and tea. But that had created a mess I had not cleaned up in days - paper plates and used paper towels and spoons sticky with honey and knives coated with old butter.

Someone is going to have to come in here and clean all this up before they can properly mourn my death.

Just like my own kitchen except neater

The more I laid on my bed, waiting for the aspirin to kick in, the more my throat seemed to close up. I was worried that maybe I did have COVID instead of the regular flu or a bad cold. I would die of COVID because I'd been too hospital-chicken to get myself checked. 

Lord, I don't mind dying but I sure don't want to die in a messy apartment.

I felt so sick and sorry for myself that I started to cry. And I started dozing off. Until my throat ache woke me. I sat up and realized I would have to go into the bathroom pantry to see if I had any more aspirin. But I was too freaking tired to walk to the bathroom and back. But my throat...

I guess the crying just made things worse because suddenly I felt like I couldn't swallow comfortably or get enough air in through my snotty nose.

When I called my family, it was about 11 or 11:30. They didn't even hesitate. As soon as I said that I thought I might need to go to the hospital, they went into action. The Conway Calvary was on the way!

Actually, the staff were all
very nice

And, of course, then I had to somehow get dressed. I hadn't showered in days and I had been sleeping in the same yoga pants, ratty t-shirt, bra, and underwear for at least 3 days (don't judge me!). There is not much that can get me to leave my house like that but I just didn't have the energy to do more than mask up my face, lock up my apartment and get myself to the lobby where I could sit and wait for my ride. They were there by the time I made it to the door. Looking all kinds of a hot, pitiful mess.

One I use here all the time

Now here's a weird thing that happened. Not even halfway to the hospital, my throat seemed to be opening up a little. it didn't hurt much to swallow and I actually felt as if I could fall right to sleep. 

The ER people are going to think I am overreacting to minor flu symptoms.

That's what I thought for about 2 seconds and then I remembered that this is 2021 and COVID is a thing. Thankfully, my family is vaccinated.

Too late, my friend.
It's too late,
though we really did try to make it.

So... A 10-minute ride to the ER; 5 minutes to disinfect my hands and sign in; 10 minutes in the waiting area (empty); 15 minutes in an exam room to strip, hide my icky bra and undies in my purse and under my coat (until they could be safely burned); 5 minutes with a nurse; and 10 minutes with a doctor and a lab guy who administered a COVID test. Then I laid there on the table and dozed for who knows how long? 25 minutes? An hour? When the doctor came back he was chipper and non-judgemental.

I don't have COVID. What I had was the lingering effects of the flu. And the problems with my throat closing up? That was most likely from an anxiety attack. I was released with orders to drink LOTS of water, take aspirin for any fever and see my regular doctor asap. I slunk out of there, relieved that I would live.

Funny enough, the ER doc said that he hadn't seen a "regular" flu patient in a long time.

Probably because "regular flu" patients don't rush to the ER in the middle of the night like manic hypochondriacs...

So, yeah. I live. I'm still super-fatigued and am using a lot of energy laying on my side in bed as I type this but at least I don't have COVID.

It was, Apparently, it was.

I've had bursts of energy. I have managed to empty the garbage, pick up the kitchen, and shower myself. I am still living mostly from my bed but I am feeling SO much better. Silly for running to the ER in the middle of the night, but...

If I die now, at least my bed will be the only messy thing about the apartment. 

Today, I made it to infusion and even stopped at the store on the way home for a quick minute. And I have finally gotten to try that WTRMLN Juice I've been hearing about. 

A bit of a 
disappointment :-(

That's the WTRMLN drink I've been searching everywhere for. My family picked it up for me. It's exactly like drinking the juice from a could-be-sweeter watermelon. I don't taste the lime at all, but I keep wanting to add sugar to it. I was disappointed the way I am when I am looking forward to a piece of tasty melon only to get one that's underripe. And I can taste the rind in this. It's not totally disgusting but I won't be rushing out to get more. Nope. (Maybe the other versions are better?)

In addition to trying the WTRMLN, I found a good ginger tea. The WTRMLN I tried might be a bust but...

Instant Ginger Tea with Honey

Now the ginger tea? That is so delicious. I don't like spicy things (wait til I get to the cayenne in a moment) but this is not the same kind of spicy as the pepper I force myself to add to juice. This tea is the first one I could find online that had ginger as the first of the ingredients and didn't have a lot of ingredients - just ginger, cane sugar, and honey. I like to drink it cold with a little bit of apple or pineapple juice or the occasional bit of coconut water (occasional because of the high potassium in coconut water). At night, I will drink it hot before bed.

And, yeah, I have been adding cayenne to my diet - for the capsaicin. Yep, me, the woman who can barely take too much black pepper in her food. 

Haven't had that problem. Yet.

I don't go crazy with it though. I have just been adding a little bit of cayenne powder to my juices and smoothies. If I add it to coconut water or apple juice, the heat isn't too much. Instead of ingesting a lot all at once, I just do little 6-ounce shots throughout the day.  One tip I picked up for cooling the heat is to use dairy (knew that one), something acidic (lime or lemon), or carbs (bread). For me, coconut water or apple juice works well.

Capsaicin is found in various types of peppers but is higher in the hotter ones (I think I'm saying that right). I have heard that, like ginger, it's good for the immune system. I also heard something about how it can rev the metabolism. Hmmm? I don't know. I'm almost beyond caring about that for now. But I can say that it does affect the appetite. On the days that I add some cayenne to my juice, I feel less hungry and less inclined to snack. ~shrug~

So, yeah, I'm trying to help my immune system out as much as I can. 

At any rate, I didn't die in a messy apartment. I am still here and feeling a little more back to my usual (hah!)  level of wellness every day. Hopefully, I will be getting some more posts out of the Draft basket and posted soon.

Peace

--Free

Fear & Fragility in the Age of COVID

 This has been a heck of a week. I go out to dinner - me, the hermit queen. I go out ONE TIME... 

So I went out with my family for a bit of dinner last Friday and it was nice. The place we went to was taking all the safety measures - lots of distance between tables, staff wearing masks, the whole bit. Plus, there were only 2 parties in the entire place. My family of 3 was at a table on one side of the large dining room and another, larger party was on the other. In between serving us, we never saw the staff.

We had a decent lunch and it was fun to be chatting and hanging out where we didn't have to clear away or wash dishes. Afterward, we went for a little drive around the lake. Then I went home. I was out of my apartment for less than 2 hours. Maybe an hour and 40 minutes. It was just enough time to enjoy my family and not too much for my anxiety to kick in.

That was Friday afternoon. By Saturday evening, I wasn't feeling great. I felt hot and dried out, then cold and clammy. The skin on my belly felt so hot at one point, it scared me. I never get fevers. I think I had one once when I was in the hospital with sarcoidosis.  

I had been feeling so icky that I had put my computer on the bed so I could do my Bible reading without getting up. I stopped everything and ordered a thermometer online.

And then I slept. I think I must have slept from that Saturday off and on until my family called to see if I was coming to dinner at their house. They hadn't gotten my message about not feeling well. And that is scary. Scary to think that my messages were getting missed. Great. So no Easter dinner with the family for me.  I had cold medicine in an emergency kit so I took some and carried bottled water, a roll of tissue and some baby wipes back to bed with me.

I slept through the usual family text messages we send for holidays. When I missed one from Arizona, one of my brothers there called to check on me. I was feeling better. Must have been all the sleep. 

After lectures about COVID and vaccines from my worried brother, I went back to sleep. And I slept clean through until Monday around 10 when the mailman knocked. My thermometer was here. And I wasn't feeling so great. 

Other than my sarcoid and the meds I take for it, I don't get super sick. I get every cold that comes within a hundred yards of our town but I don't get sick the way I felt sick this time. The hot-dry-cold-clammy-chilled-burning up.... That worried me but I knew I hadn't lost my sense of taste because I was sure tasting the cough drops I had.  I was too wiped out to Google for COVID symptoms. 

I waited for the thermometer to arrive and when it did, I was grateful it was easy to figure out. It's simple and easy to read. I was in no mood for figuring things out.

From the memory function, I know that my temp ran from 98.1 to 99.6 to an even 100. And, as I said, I don't get fevers. I don't think I've ever gotten past 98.5.

At the time, I didn't appreciate the helpful frowny-face that the thermometer displays for high temps. It was still smiling at above 98 but started scowling for 100 degrees.

This is the thing about living alone. You get used to dealing with your anxiety and nerves on your own on a daily basis. I have felt unwell and not worried before because I knew what was wrong and I knew it would pass. I get slightly ill once a week from meds. I sometimes have problems with my balance. I know what to do in those cases. Drink plenty of fluids for the weekly sickness and when I get unsteady on my feet, I sit or lay down for long periods. No big. But this... This was like a regular old nasty flu bug.

Me: no unusual shortness of breath & no coughing

I didn't want to worry my family so I just kept telling them that I had a bad cold and was resting up. But at one point, I scared myself when I couldn't come out of the chills. I texted my SIL that I would go to the clinic if I didn't feel better soon.

Spoiler: I survived. I started feeling better this morning. I was able to get up and make toast and tea. I still don't have the energy to trust standing in the shower (as badly as I need one!) but I have been up and on my feet. I took out my trash. I just ordered some things from the store - soup, bread, peanut butter, more cold meds, and some coconut water to help re-hydrate. I'm still staying extra-isolated. I don't want to come in contact with anyone for at least another couple of weeks. Just in case. I'm not seeing my family and when I get groceries, I have the delivery left outside my door. Just. In. Case. From what I understand, 20 days is a safe period of isolation. No problem here.

I'm just ranting a little here. I guess I want to commiserate with all my other Living Single singles. Now that we are living in the age of this superbug virus, life feels a little more fragile. Or at least it does for me.

Just so you all know, I am not afraid of dying. I think I've said that here before. Being dead doesn't bother me because I won't stay dead. It's the whole "getting dead" part that doesn't sound fun.

Anyway.

I am back. I think. While I am isolating, I have plenty of backed-up reviews to do. I have been saving things up for a couple of months so... 

For now, I am happy to be able to sit up and focus on something other than feeling icky.

Peace

--Free

P.S.: I am publishing this post a few days after writing it. I had one day when the fatigue came back for a brief visit. Now I am back to my usual run-of-the-mill fatigue and, boy, I won't complain about it so much anymore!

Distracted Much?

As if I am not air-headed enough on a normal day, just put something on my mind and watch the comedy ensue...

Woke up fighting the start of some sniffles, so I fixed a big pot of chicken noodle soup this morning. Chicken soup has been "proven" good for colds. As if we ever needed proof. For one thing, it calms my whole soul to just be  in the kitchen, chopping up pieces of chicken and dicing my celery, onions and carrots. Seriously. By the time I had everything going at a nice slow boil, I could feel my mother's presence.

Once I spooned out a nice bowl to enjoy, I realized I'd forgotten to add the noodles. That was today's first sign that I will never be a rocket scientist.

Later on, (after I added the noodles) I decided to toast a couple pieces of Italian bread. (Trying to get in the habit of eating any breads before 8 pm. You can ask me in a couple of weeks how that's going.) The microwave the roommate and I are so proud of ourselves for choosing has a nifty little grilling feature. What would be nifty to the max is if either one of us had ever read the manual or could just figure out how to use the feature. Yeah, so, I ended up putting the bread in the oven. Went away to check my email and came back a few minutes later to discover that bread only cooks when you turn on the oven.

Second sign of the day.

I figured, screw it. I'm not trying to find the third sign for anything today. I just popped some bread in the toaster and called it lunch.

Just a few minutes ago, I got into a fight with the bedroom window. Since my roommate (who has the circulation of a 90 year old mummy) is out for the day, I wanted to let in some fresh air. Damn window started acting like this apartment is prison and I'm the most dangerous inmate. I spent maybe three minutes hitting my fist against the edges and cursing the moisture that must all be outside (cos it's dry as Mesa inside) and sealing the window. Around Minute Four, I realized I hadn't unlatched the locks.

That damn third sign came all on its own.

The best thing I can do now is crawl into bed and pray for deliverance from my own stupidity.

Peace
--Free