My vacation wasn't much of a vacation. May 12 to 16 I was too ill to do much of anything. I had a slight fever, my blood sugars were out of sight, but mostly I just wanted to sleep. May 19, the day I was to be back to work, Kathy my wife loaded me up in the car, used wheel chair to get me up to the doctor's office, and ended up taking me to St Jo's hospital. To tell the truth, that first week plus when I was in St Jo, in Intensive Care, I don't remember much. They told me I had Empyema, a complication of Pneumonia where crud gets in the space around you lungs. Your lung (right side for me) partially collapses, and they operate to remove the stuff from your pleural cavity. They had to operate, though I don't remember. I could not stand very well and the doctors kept asking if I knew what day it was. Generally I didn't. I remembered my condition had something to do with the Girl from Ipanema, and when I told the doctor that he thought I was even more confused. Kathy was there to explain my sense of humor, though. I had some kind of a feeling at first that some group of aliens was in charge, they would not let me do what I wanted. When I found that my sister Judy was coming to visit, I felt the aliens would be defeated.	My sister came to visit.
After about a week they moved me from Intensive Care to "telemetary" at St. Jo. I was still pretty well out of it, I felt there was still a conspiracy to complicate my life. They did all kinds of stuff to me. The first thing I remember about that place was that my feet were too long for the bed, so they took off the end of the bed. They let you order whatever you wanted for meals, but almost nothing was allowed on my diet. I was really swollen from the medications they gave me. I actually gained 20 pounds, and I looked like Jabba the Hut. Their team decided it was time to put in a pick line--a tube that stretches from your arm to almost your heart. It makes it easier to hook you up to antibiotics, which I would receive for a long time. The problem was that my veins were shrunk to nothing from the swelling. I was aware of, and in great pain from their probing. That was the only point of real pain, and it was enough to make me shudder every time since then (and probably forever) when I may face pain.
On June 3, I was moved to Briarwood Rehabilitation Center. I did not realize that I needed to recover in many ways. It was brought home to me by a therapist asking me to list all the fruits I could. Easy, right? I was lucky to get 5. In a few days I could go back to listing 8-15. Walking normally was first complicated by low blood pressure. Even now walking is sometimes complicated by feelings of instability, even close to dizziness. It is something you have done since childhood, something you haven't thought about for many years, but you have to re-learn it. I suspect that there were oxygen-starved brain cells ftom the first couple days. I must re-build those cells. Surprisingly, they have said the my smoking may not have contributed to my problem (I smoked only 3 cigarettes the week before). I ave not started again. Maybe the money I save can help make up for what was lost.
Visiting Nurses are following me since I got home, including a physical therapist and an occupational therapist. I think they help. The doctors and nurses said I was not ready to go back to work for a couple more weeks. I am still too unsteady on my feet, my diabetes is not in complete control. I will try, I have exercises to make me better able to walk.. I'm walking with a cane, I have yet to drive, and I still feel the need to take a nap after breakfast, another after lunch.... Maybe I can go back on 7/21 they now say. That will be the 10th week I have been off work. I never thought I could use my 103 days of sick leave that I had accumulated, but maybe I can use half of them anyway. I make about 50% less than I did, considering I worked overtime all the time, and sick pay isn't as much a regular pay.	in olden times, smoking a ciragette (Jan. 27, 2006)