The body chills started Sunday. I wasn't too surprised as I was outside in the yard, clearing it up one final time and buttoning up the house for winter, in just a tee shirt. So, back inside I fire up the furnace and huddle near the heat register to warm up, which it did. The odd part was that five minutes later I was freezing again. OK, try the furnace again I think. Once warmed up I go about getting some food ready.
I can't finish that. I get hit with a wave of tiredness so strong I just shut off the stove and lie down under a pile of duvets I have on the bed to warm up. This was at six PM. I don't wake up till 2AM and that's to use the bathroom. I make it fine and back to bed I go. I finally get up at 5 because I can't sleep anymore, I get up and stumble to the bathroom once again and lose my balance and crash into the wall. I retrieve my balance by throwing myself the opposite way and lose that, right into the sink. POW! Great, not only am I freezing and dizzy, I'm holding my side as I think I cracked a rib.
After a few, I finally get take my god damn piss.
I sit down and start to think. “What the hell is this? I ain't hacking but the inside of my nose is stinging and running like a faucet. Another thought. “What day is it? Is it Monday...no...it's Wednesday...wait...”
I flip on the computer and it says it's Monday. “Is it really?” as I doubt this machine that rarely makes mistakes. It slowly comes to me, I'm the one that's fogged out and I doubting even the most common sense things that pop into my head. “You're sick! No I'm not, it's just the arthritis in my legs. No dummy, you don't crash on a daily basis! But it could be I need to loosen up more like you always do in the morning. No...you are never are THAT stiff in the morning!”
I get up to start the day and I'm wobbling around. Trying not to repeat the sink crash. I sit back down, a little more cognizant and think, “Is the Minute Clinic open? Shit no, it's way too early. Damn...do I try the ER? I'll be there most of the day!” I go back and forth figuring out what I should do. I could drive there myself but my worry is that I have to navigate the 70 yards to the door and what if I fall and lay face flat down on the pavement before someone notices? I call my buddy up for a ride. M. shows up pretty quickly and on the ride there he tries to sound upbeat but I can manage still to read his face. It is showing some surprise and concern. He talks more and then I hear him say. “That's not what I asked you at all.” I then realize I totally didn't understand what he had asked and answered some other Q I thought he asked.
I get into Sturdy's ER. They take my info and immediately get me into triage. After the usual scans, off I go one of their rooms. I lie there, trying to plan what I'm going to do but I can't think straight at all. Then this spikey white haired Dr comes in, the one I remember from the last time. Dr. Jedrick Chrzanowski. Try and pronounce that! It probably sounds fine if you can speak Polish.
“Well, we'll run some tests and scans. He asks some very simple Q's, year, date, where I live and then plays a little finger game with my hands and then my toes. “Well, I doubt you're stroking out” He says “You answered all the questions right and you can perform these simple motions...we'll find out for sure what's up though.”
Up my nose for the covid, flu, RSV swab and they rasp my brain with it nearly. My blood is drawn and then for the arterial puncture in the wrist. I've never been stabbed that deep in my life and does that sting like a son of a bitch. A couple of Xrays and then I'm left to wait for the results, which come back quicker than I thought.
“You have covid! You also have fluid in the bottom of your lungs and that, ontop of covid's ability to fog you out is why you are feeling so dense.”
I ask, “What about my balance? I was all over the place this morning.”
“Not at all unusual” he says. “I've seen it happen a lot...lucky you didn't knock yourself out cold in the bathroom though. You might have stayed there on the floor for a good while. You're super dehydrated though..We'll do an IV with some saline, some steroids to open you up. Get relaxed, you're gonna be here a while.”
He reads the computer screen a bit more.
“Ohhh, I remember you now.” he says.
“You still live alone? Single your whole life, not married?”
“Yeah” I tell him.
“Uh-huh” Which sound a bit sarcastic to me when he said it.
“You still hike? Climb?” he asked and then I wonder had he taped our last conversation from before.
“No, my legs will scream murder if I put them through that again.”
“Well, you are nearly 60.” he says.
He then turns to me...”You hiked alone a lot? Purposely ever go off trail to get yourself sort of lost, just so you could use a compass and map to find your way back? Testing yourself?”
I turn to look at him, in sort of amazement.
“So you have.” he says. “I have another patient near you age, similar hobbies, hiker, bachelor male type...You like your independence? Staunchly defend it?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyone ever tell you you're stubborn? Refuse to take anyone else's opinion because you think they're wrong?”
“Yeah...I don't' usually voice it but in my head I scream 'Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!' ” Now I wonder why this is turning into a therapy session.
He goes on. “You might be surprised but there's more than a few of you “bachelor males” (his favorite term to use) out there, like yourself. I run into you guys often enough and you're all fairly similar.. It's a great trait, to depend on yourself, learn things on your own, paying attention to the tiniest details, checking things again and again...over doing that...and you've been doing it for years. It's useful but there's a downside.”
“Believing like you do and living alone, you have NO counterpoint to to what you think is painfully right, in your mind and only in your mind. You believe ONLY you can do things "right.". A wife, girlfriend or live in room mate could easily offer a more common sense, grounded view of what's up with you at the moment, like you could've used yesterday when you should have come in, instead of trying to handle this one your own. And I don't think I have to warn you again you carry only one copy of the cystic fibrosis gene, had you the second gene as well, you'd be long since gone like your brother from 20 years ago. You beat the odds, outlived them all by years, but don't think you're totally immune from your family background. You can't will your way out of that fact because your fiercely independent.”
“Was your Dad like this? Independent, Stubborn?” he asks. Holy shit I thought. Bingo! My dad would have to have been dragged by his heels to go to an ER. But I didn't tell the Dr that.
I felt like this guy hired a private investigator to follow me around. How did he know? Well, I guess if you see a thousand patients a year, you learn a few things about personalities.
“Well, we'll get you situated, control it all, but your nose is going to run like a faucet for a few days...don't hang out with others w/o a mask! The fogginess will go away on it's own. And...COME BACK if it gets worse..don't chew over that decision because you think you know what your doing...you AREN'T qualified to do so! You seem to know a lot but nothing in this field!”
****
Years ago, I had worked in social services. I have seen and been through therapy sessions. I'd see the tricks they employ to get you to admit ugly dark secrets, open you up w/o you realizing they're doing it. They can get you to believe, in family sessions, that they are interviewing others when in fact they're watching YOU and how you respond via body language to what everyone else was saying. I was and am still aware of how they investigate. But this Dr, gutted me in minutes, like a haddock on a boat, feeding the seagulls with the useless bits.
At 14, I thought I knew all I needed to know about the world. I was RIGHT. I was SURE. At 60, I still sort of just believe myself because I have known too many idiots and seen how they crash their lives constantly. Take their advice? Pfff! Not in a million years. However...having been exposed like this by a Dr who pinned me to the wall...I should believe I really, really don't know so much as I like to think I do.
Fall Risk, Bruise Risk, see my arm?...and I'm not playing with cutting tools so don't worry.
