IT'S NO FUN BEING SICK

A little over five weeks ago my California daughter, Mary, a nurse called me and panicked when she heard me answer the phone. I was rambling saying things that didn’t make sense and was giggling, too. She hung up and called my daughter who lives close to me and told her to take me to the hospital immediately. Well, I had a temperature well over 103 degrees, and they insisted on admitting me immediately even though I didn’t want to be admitted. It turned out I had pneumonia. It was the only time I’ve been in a hospital except when I delivered my four babies.

Mary at work at Kaiser Hospital in CA.

Mary immediately took a flight home and my three children were there much of the time when they could be as well as two of my granddaughters.  My two sisters who live close came to visit, too. They were worried sick because I was either sleeping or mumbling things that didn’t make sense. My primary doctor, Doctor Pipes, checked on me every morning between 4:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. and I had a Chinese woman Doctor Quinn, who was good at trying to figure out problems. I had pneumonia. She were trying to figure out why. Lyme disease and everything else was ruled out. I was poked and stabbed and wore a little plastic tube with a needle sticking into my arm the whole time. I had fluid taken from my spine which had both of my legs hurting for several weeks. A large lamp post type thing with a window at the top was posted just beyond the foot of my bed to keep an eye on my so I didn’t try to get out of my bed. They are expensive and they only had one so apparently they thought I needed to be watched carefully. Much of my stay I’ve forgotten. I don’t even remember some of the people who came. I know the nurses and aides were very nice, and I know the meals and coffee I ordered didn’t taste good so I ate almost nothing. My daughter and sometimes a physical therapist took me for walks down the hall and once he asked me if I could go up a flight of steps which I could do.

Mary brought me home a week later and I was so glad to get into normal clothes instead of a hospital gown, but I was very tired and settled into my nesting chair with a cup of water and books and newspapers to read or doze. Meanwhile, Mary went on a cleaning frenzy. She cleaned all my kitchen cupboards and washed the floors and ran the sweeper and dusted down cobwebs that my nearsighted eyes don’t always see. She cleaned the whole upstairs, and she fixed meals for me which I could barely eat because I had no appetite. I still don’t have much of one but gradually it’s returning. She bought me bottles of strawberry Ensure which I do like, but have limited myself to only one a day.

We went for a walk in the woods. I rested a lot.

Every morning and evening I followed her to the barn to help (minimal help) with the barn chores. She hauled the water buckets to the barn for the ponies and chickens.  My son mowed my lawn at least the sections he could mow that he could get his large riding mower into. She mowed the sections using my mower where he couldn’t get. My sisters came to visit, my son and my local daughter and a granddaughter and friends came to visit, too. Mary flew back to California two weeks after arriving. She had a job to return to. Several days before I suggested I drive to the Mall to a pet store to make sure I could still drive, and I proved to her I could. So on the day she had to leave we headed for the Cleveland Airport at 5:00 a.m. with her driving there and me driving home with no problems. 

The day she left I had to go to the hospital for a chest X-ray. It showed my lungs were clean. Mary and I had visited Dr. Pipe the week before when he gave me the paperwork for the X-ray. He said I was a complete mystery.

Last week I delivered Mobile Meals for the first time in over a month. My California daughter and my son were not happy about that. My local daughter, Susan, came over and carried three buckets of water to the barn so I wouldn’t have to do that to water the ponies or chickens. My writer friend brought me a Chinese meal of Chicken cashew from a Chinese restaurant next to the doctor she goes to. It was one of few things that tasted okay, but I could only eat about two

tablespoons of it so I have enough for a week.

So why am I complaining when I have so many people caring for me? It’s because I lack any energy. Everything I do except sitting in my nesting chair reading and drinking water tires me out. I have minimal appetite and have already lost weight the last time I was weighed a few weeks ago at the doctor’s office. I guess I want to be able to take walks in the woods and do other things like mow the sections of the lawn that didn’t get mowed. I want to get out there and weed and plant all the plants I bought before I got sick. I’m tired of being tired even though I am getting a lot of reading done.

It’s been a four or five days since I wrote this and gradually my appetite and energy is coming back. My sister said I should eat lots of small meals to get my energy back and that seems to have helped. I am so grateful for all the help I got, the Get Well cards and phone calls I’ve gotten since I’ve been sick. I feel totally loved by many now.

Have you ever been seriously ill?