So I ended up in the hospital again.
Have been in an out since last I blogged. Last Friday I woke up (never a good idea) all congested with goo in the head, throat, ears, and lungs, and barely able to breathe.
So after the usual hemming and hawing I asked J&J to take me to the ever-loving ER. And it was swamped. Apparently we got some kind of bug going around in the region plus it was New Years’ weekend so things were extra fucky.
So I was there like six hours before I even got into the ER. Luckily, I was too busy concentrating on not breaking my lifelong breathing streak to get too bored.
I’d brought the tablet but was not really in the video game mood. Even less so for TikTok, my new virtual home.
Then when I tried, the WiFi wouldn’t work. Turns out you had to somehow invoke the webpage where you can type in the password.
January’s is “friendly”. Aww.
Eventually they had to let me in. Put me in the same bed in the side ward they put me in when I had my first “blood in urine” incident.
Small world, innit.
Now I could really settle down to suffer. And suffer I did. So much was wrong at the same time. Not only was I goo logged, my head hurt, my muscles ached, my bones creaked, and I couldn’t think worth a damn.
Oh, and I was extremely tired.
But in too much pain and panic to sleep, of course.
The medical monkeys showed up to do their jobs. Taking blood, pee, vitals, an EKG, and so forth and so on.
And the head monkey, Doctor Lee, would pop up now and then to tell me the usually equivocating bullshit about not being sure what’s wrong with me yet. we will wait for the results of this burning of the cloven leaf to see what’s up.
Eventually they put me on IV antibiotics (ho hum) despite them not even knowing if it was viral or germ….al. The symptoms cleared up so yesterday afternoon they sent me home, still undiagnosed.
Naturally. This is Richmond General Hospital. I could show up with one leg ripped off and they still wouldn’t be able to explain the sudden issues I was having with my sense of balance and walking speed.
I didn’t spend the entire time in the side ward of the ER. Oh no.
Eventually they moved me to… a tiny office, barely bigger than the stretcher. I honestly lay for like half an hour in some sort of office museum exhibit.
No button to push if I need help. No urinal bottle if I need to pee. Just this office thing.
But of course, they didn’t leave me there. Eventually, a handsome young Caribbean man came to take me to my new home in a…. cubby.
Or possibly an alcove.
Some sort of space off to the side but still in a corridor, anyhow. It looked like it had housed some sort of display or exhibit at one time.
They just wheeled my stretcher into it and left me there. And there I would remain for the rest of my stay.
And it takes a lot for me to get angry about accommodations being below my dignity, but come ON people.
This felt personal!
More after the break.
Something is missing
I can’t shake the feeling that I lost something this weekend.
Like I am dumber now. Some potent fragment of the ever shining star at my core was ejected into the interstellar void, never to return, and now I am… lesser.
And I am not sure that’s a bad thing.
Because while I definitely feel less mentally agile and strong, I always feel a lot more solid. More calm. More settled.
And a fuckton less neurotic.
So maybe it’s all for the good. Maybe I am a bit slower now but maybe I was too fast before. Maybe I am better off without so much surplus intellect constantly poking and plucking and prodding at my tender consciousness without mercy or restraint in the name of metaconsciousness.
That’s a broken system for sure. And another effect of whatever the fuck happened and is happening seems to be that I have much better access to my emotional core and can truly feel my deeper self and who he might even be.
And the deeper I can go, the deeper I can heal. Maybe all this cerebral falderal is just a side effect of a fundamentally psychological process and I will get back what I have lost when this all is over and I am whole.
Or maybe the long term effects of neglecting my diabetes are bored with messing with my feet and fingertips and everything else and are finally going for my brain.
Don’t want to get too shiny about this whole thing.
I will find out more tomorrow. I have a phone appointment with my GP, Doctor Chao, tomorrow, and I am looking forward to that.
Thing is, his office called me. So it has nothing to do with my hospital visit. It must be related to my CT scan from a week and change ago.
So, probably not great news.
I am currently holding on to the hope that this will all turn out to have been some sort of inflammatory nonsense that has done no permanent damage to my mind meat and once the swelling goes down, everything will go back to normal.
Including my ability to walk.
After all, they have looked for something wrong with my legs themselves and found nothing. It has to be something on the neurological level.
So who knows, maybe the right anti-inflammatory or the right antibiotic could clear all this shit up.
Or maybe I am on the fast track to Goober City. Enjoy me while you can, folks.
Because alive or dead, you might not have me too much longer.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.