pneumonia

If I can cough, I can breathe, and if I can breathe, I’m still here. ‘Here’ is a relative term, though, and one whose definition will change a few times in the coming weeks. More so than I’d planned even a month ago, and more so than I’ve said publicly.I have a plane ticket with my name on it, a ticket that will send me away for a week for a trip that’s been delayed since October for various reasons. Instead of an exciting, action-packed Vacation!™ I think I will be … escaping. Resting. I will be gone for a week, and I have zero plans for that week.

The lesson is simple: the time that you close off and draw away from your friends is the time that you probably need them the most.There have been no gym stories for a while, and that should be a tip-off that I’m struggling. The month before dragon*con is always a wash for me when it comes to workouts, because my brain gets eaten by the twin towers of tech and DCTV. Coming on top of May’s pneumonia diagnosis, things have sputtered for months. What had started off terribly well ended up in a major disappointment for me; the costume I had spent a year and a half researching was one I could not fit into when it came time for dragon*con 2005.

I put it away for another year. Not without tears, though.

Better. Much better.

My white cell count has dropped to 8,000, which is back down to within normal ranges. My chest x-rays are much clearer than they were last week, and my sounds & volume are much better than they were before. We did one last breathing treatment with albuterol, and he instructed me to go home and rest.

The strength of the antibiotic I’m on right now is causing … uh … issues, but this was anticipated. I don’t have to return for another follow-up treatment unless I am still wheezing by Thursday.

Total weight lost on the Pneumonia Weight Loss Plan: five pounds.

Now, for your amusement, I present a demonstration of the sheer size of the Edmund, and his true shamelessness when he wants his belly rubbed. Click on the photo to get the full goodness:

So here’s your update, or your scorecard, or whatever.

I have pneumonia. Jeff has bronchitis. The hacking and wheezing is a sight to behold, but the good news is that nobody’s going to the hospital—hooray! My white cell count has dropped from 18,000 to 15,000, which still isn’t good, but it’s an improvement and indicates I’m responding to antibiotics. Jeff’s currently stands at 16,000. (Normal? 4,500-10,000 per microliter)

We are sad and pathetic, but we are sad and pathetic together, and that’s what counts.

According to my doctor, I have pneumonia, a white blood cell count of 18,000, and about 50% of my normal lung capacity.I have a wheelbarrow full of drugs and a follow-up appointment tomorrow morning. If I’m not better, it’s potentially hospital time for me.

Back … soon, I hope.

There were phone calls last night, phone calls whose contents I barely remember. I’ve been gradually succumbing to the crud that has eaten the immune systems of my spouse and nearby friends. What began on Tuesday as an inexplicable inability to breathe fully while working out had spawned into the feeling of having a cat permanently sitting on my chest.

Even when it wasn’t actually true.