I woke up this morning to the sound of the phone ringing. It was the hospital. Just as well since I had to call them anyway.
“How are you?” asked the Lisa, the nurse for the unit.
“Swimming in a world of mucous,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s pneumonia. It doesn’t feel like pneumonia.”
“Are you coughing?”
“Not much, but I’m sneezing a lot.” I’m an epic sneezer. I put my heart and soul into my sneezes. They echo through the house. I’ve been known to sneeze 8 or 9 times in a row and throw my back out at the same time.
“That’s not good. After surgery, sneezing or coughing can be really painful.”
I could only imagine. The image it conjured was all too graphic. Ouch!
I called my friend to tell her surgery was postponed.
“Garry says he won’t drive me there. He says he has a bad feeling about this.”
“Me too,” she said. Me three, I thought.
Next call, the doctor. Chest x-rays all around. I don’t have pneumonia, but Garry does. I’m about 4 or 5 days behind him in this particular viral infection, but hopefully I won’t go the same route. I don’t believe in prophylactic antibiotics and neither does my doctor, but Garry is now on what have to be the most expensive antibiotics on the market. Usually, antibiotics are free or really cheap, but these were worth two weeks of groceries. Impressive. I hope they are as effective as they are costly.
Presumably Garry is now on the way to getting better. He’s not there yet, still pretty miserable.
Meanwhile, my surgery is postponed until I can breathe, no coughing or sneezing. The new date will depend on how long this cold takes to go away. If I’m lucky, a week. Unlucky, longer. At this point, I want to get this show on the road, get to the other side and start the healing process.
A thought for us all. With all the research and advances in medicine, there is still virtually nothing to be done about The Common Cold. I doubt they are any closer to a cure (or prevention) now than ever.
So where’s the silver lining?
I won’t be in the hospital for my birthday. Good. I’ve spent two birthdays in the hospital. Maybe this time, I will celebrate with Garry in our favorite Japanese restaurant. Overeating on sushi and other good stuff.
Even if we wind up eating breakfast sandwiches in front of the TV, it beats out hospital food with a side order of morphine drip.