What's kooky is with this bout of pneumonia I have been to the hospital three times in three weeks. Thank god for having health care!
Yesterday the doctor insisted I stay the night for "observation." Always a fluke. All that ever means is "we aren't sure what is wrong with you, but need to feel like we have done something so will hold you here like a bug under a glass to achieve some sense of control of your situation." I even had to fight to be released this morning. They prescribed me with a bunch of Crohn's disease drugs, made me promise to follow up with a gastroenterologist, and sent me on my merry way. Thing is, I think I'm still over Crohn's and have another adhesion, just way worse than the other one. I'll have to get a colonoscopy to prove it though. THAT should be loads of fun.
One point of interest, even through all the regular temperature and blood pressure checks (about one an hour to keep any person from getting a solid night of sleep, don't you know) I managed to sleep about 24 hours straight. Oh, and I had one doctor who was shocked that I had thrown up at least eight times the other night, like that was so many. Obviously that was enough for me to go to the emergency room, but I've had worse. Silly interns.
I'm actually feeling pretty good, no small part because of the woman who shared my hospital room, Amy. She was on her eighteenth day being in there, with no end in sight. Amy has some very rare form of cancer that has affected her liver, causing her to overproduce steroids. Among a ton of other symptoms, she has gained about fifty pounds, as she put “to add insult to injury.” She is undergoing slews of chemo. Unlike many roommates I have had in the hospitals, Amy is incredibly intelligent and refined. Soft, calming voice, excellent grammar and vocabulary, and I could see an avid reader of literature and newspapers. The kind of person I very much admire. Seeing her have an illness so much worse than mine really kept my trials in perspective. I most likely can do something to fix myself, and it should be a lot less arduous than chemo. I really hope she gets better. She has a good chance; since her disease is so rare every doctor is obsessed with her and her treatment. Amy admitted that she knows that in some weird way she is lucky to be able to generate that much attention.
Seeing someone like Amy stay strong has a great way of kicking all my self-pity out of the window. As sick as I can be, I am still really lucky.