Nothing like flying a coupla thousand miles to spend 10 vaca days sick. I thought the worst of the cold I’d hosted for the previous 10 days was over, so climbed aboard the planes and took off for T’giving. Man plans; God laughs. Evidently, somewhere along the line I introduced either bacteria or virus into my already compromised immune system and my cold became community acquired pneumonia, which seems to be pretty common in older folks especially.
Rather than touristing hither and yon, I’ve sat on a couch, feeling awful and then much worse, and watched the Hallmark Movie Channel. My dotter admits that should have been a clue, but we missed it. Sunday, I felt like death warmed over, so dotter convinced me to go to a walk-in clinic at WalMart, citing my ashen hue as an unflattering complexion color. One look by the receptionist led to the nurse on duty coming out; she said I needed the next level up and sent me to urgent care.
They were both nice and efficient, traits not often seen in CA clinics. The doc came in, assessed the situation, diagnosed the CAP, prescribed several lines of defense against it, told me it’s okay to fly back home BUT, if I am not over it by Friday, directed me to return to an urgent care for chest x-rays and blood work.
Do I feel better? Yes. Do I feel ready to return home? No. I’m tired, really, really tired – and still am plagued with “cold” symptoms that aren’t a cold. I’ll make it home and I’ll make it to work Wednesday, then I’ll sleep until I go to work Thursday. Friday, if I’m not at least 90%, I’ll go to urgent care to find out why and go from there to well again.
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