Let's Not Do This Again

I hate to mention the “C” word since you’re likely sick of hearing about it…so I won’t. I’ll just tell you what happened to me because of it. I’m a pretty prime candidate for the bad kind of … that thing. Overweight, diabetic, sedentary (not sure if that’s on the list, but it’s a big contributor to the things that are). Anyway, in September of ‘21, I got the bad kind.

I remember only bits and pieces, but Brook helped me fill in the gaps. A couple of days after testing positive, I remember calling my friend and telling him that this was nothing. “I’ve had colds worse than this”, I said. Less than 48 hours later, I was talking to Brook (who still had her own place at the time) on the phone and things were going bad. I remember lying on the couch, looking at a painting of a tree on my wall. The tree began to move…flowing in the breeze. I remember knowing that I was hallucinating and according to Brook, I asked her to come check on me.

My next memory is of her standing over me and placing a pulse-ox meter on my finger. “It’s 52! We’re going to the hospital”, she said…and away we went. I have a few fuzzy memories from the drive and check-in, but my first clear memory is lying on a table with two nurses buzzing around me. A Dr. entered the room and said, “Mr. Edwards, I’m admitting you to the hospital for complete respiratory failure. Good luck." Next, I was rolled into another room for an MRI. The technician spoke loudly to me as if I were 80 years old or barely spoke English. “You must be Nurse Loud.", I said. Not funny, but the best I could do in my condition.

A collapsed lung, and three bacterial lung infections (in addition to the virus). No room in the ICU, so I got put where they could fit me. The only thing I remember about the next two days is thinking that if I fell asleep, I would surely die. A man came to my room one night and asked if I wanted some Morphine. No one had ever asked me that before, but I declined. “It will help you rest”, he said. “It will kill me” ,I replied. I’m not sure how intelligible any of what I said was (very little air, plus the mask), but I ended up getting a low dose of Morphine and I was out. I still have frequent episodes of jerking myself awake because it feels like I’m dying - not the typical myoclonic jerk..more like fighting to wake up from a P.T.S.D. induced nightmare.

This is much longer than I intended, so I’ll just skip to the part where I lived through it and came home a week later.

Why am I telling you this? Because it has become a big motivator in my current mission. I’d rather not spend three days drowning again… ever. I’m fairly certain that if I had been in better condition to start with, things would not have gotten so out of hand. So, whether it’s… that thing, or the next thing, I’d like my body to be in the best shape to deal with it.

Walking Weather

  \  /       Partly cloudy
_ /"".-.     32(30) °F
  \_(   ).   ↓ 2 mph
  /(___(__)  9 mi
	     0.0 in

I really wanted to skip the walk today. The Keto is catching up to me and I was feeling pretty run down. I barely made the mile, but I did it. I made up for the lack of distance by choosing a road with an incredibly steep hill. I’ve been home for a few minutes, but still catching my breath. I’ll call it a win.

Next week, nothing under 1.5 miles (about 2.4km for you sophisticated types).

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