So, after heralding my return to Steemit after a longish break with all the flare of the second coming, the fates stepped in and decided they were not quite done with me and in fact I would not be returning to Steemit on my timetable, but I would be doing a couple more laps on the crazy carousel first...
The 'Walking Pneumonia'... was all but a distant memory however...I (like many other people) drew a short straw in the immune system lottery, so if there is a germ out there, you can guarantee it has my name on it.
So everyone else takes one course of antibiotics and some paracetamol and all good. Me not so much. I take nine courses of four different escalating strengths of antibiotics, mega doses of steroids, oxycodone and the paracetamol and it still takes me weeks to recover to a point where my doctor is prepared to let me leave the house (other than for x-rays and blood tests) without wearing a Hazmet suit. Not to protect everyone else from me, to protect me from catching anything else!
The plus side of mega doses of steroids is it leaves me feeling like I'm taking uppers...I don't need to sleep and have energy to burn (mind you I do eat everything in sight). So with my four cylinder engine cranked up to a V8 and feeling so much better with all these medications on board I started doing all those jobs I hadn't felt well enough to do for months.
Curtains were washed, floors were scrubbed and then I decided to paint... That was where it all went pear shaped. Being more than a little bit hyped up on steroids, up the ladder I went and started painting, which was fine until I miss counted how many rungs I went up, when I was on the way down...
Suddenly, I find myself hanging off the ladder like a Christmas tree ornament. The pot of paint sitting atop the ladder was listing threateningly above my head, my hands, also on the top of the ladder either side of the listing pot of paint, incased in plastic working gloves and it was a really hot day and my hands were sweating inside the gloves and my fingers were now slipping rapidly.
My big toe of my left foot was almost touching the ground, but my right foot was still on the third rung of the ladder in some weird sort of half lotus position when two things occurred to me. One, I couldn't perform the lotus position and two, I didn't know the location of the paint brush!
I had milli seconds to make a decision as my sweating fingers were sliding out of the plastic gloves and the ladder and paint pot started to wobble uncontrollably. I can finish falling of the ladder and land on my butt, or try and recover the situation and risk the ladder and paint toppling to the ground as well.
I opted to fall on my butt. Most of my body parts made the descent without incident but my left shin, ankle and foot...not so much, now I have one black and blue leg and one regular. It makes a good conversation starter at least, but I fear I will be limping around on this sprain for a few months. So no more ladders for me for a while... But hey, the paint and the ladder remained upright!
Having had my painting and cleaning spree put to an abrupt end I retired to the couch with an ice pack, patted myself on the back that I had recovered from the pneumonia, announced my return to Steemit, waited for the swelling to subside, but as I finished the antibiotics and reduced my steroid dose I started to feel pretty awful.
Being fairly confident I hadn't suffered internal organ damage from falling off the ladder I drove myself to the emergency room in the early hours of the morning, and because I have a file that reads like 'War and Peace' the good doctors at the ER did x-rays, CT scans, blood tests and kept me in hospital for three days, gave me more antibiotics and ocycodone.
Finally, after the three days, the doctors threw their hands in the air and very professionally announced, they had no idea what I had, but they didn't want me catching anything worse in the hospital, so they sent me home and invited me back if it got worse. Fabulous!
Well...it did get worse. After a week of laying in bed with an ice pack on my sprained leg and gastro symptoms that could be easily managed by not eating, drinking or moving, I was packed off in an ambulance back to the hospital. Apparently the not eating, drinking or moving is not a long-term sustainable plan! But hey, short-term it was working for me...
For a week the good folks in the gastro team did x-rays, CT scans, blood tests etc and finally identified the name, rank and serial number of the bug that was giving me so much grief, then it was just a matter of kicking it's ass without kicking mine!
So finally back at home and hopefully...this time I really am back.