Eight weeks since I last posted here, and it’s been a rough two months.
The last two weeks of February found me in a rising panic – topped by two urgent care visits – as I found it more and more difficult to draw a breath of air. Finally landed in the hospital for three days – February 28, 29 and March 1-where I was diagnosed with pneumonia.
I’ve been home six weeks and tethered to an oxygen tube for most of that time, particularly at night while I sleep. I am feeling much improved and able to move around without the extra oxygen for longer and longer spells, as long as I’m not under stress.
I did well untethered the first of April, when we drove up to Skagit County for the first day of the tulip festival, so we got tickets for the Mariners home opener – one of our favorite things to do. I only made it to the fourth inning before I was panting and shivering, even though it was a pleasant night. The pressure of being in a stadium at maximum capacity (47,000+) added to my rising panic, I suppose.
Rachael was gracious enough to take me home (she loves me, it seems, more than she loves the Mariners, and she does love the game). I had an oxygen tank in the car, so I was feeling better by the time we got home.
No more outings for a time, it seems.
Even worse, being ill has left me without the energy to write. Two months and I haven’t done a thing but sit and stare at the monitor. Some improvement there, though. I wrote this post today and last night I managed to add two hundred words to Still and Always Incandescent, a post-apocalyptic tale involving the Geezers of Fury, a septuagenarian motorcycle club. Hopefully, I’ll have more to tell about that project soon.