I was given "somewhere between 3 to 6 months" to get my "affairs in order", as the INCREDIBLY warm, compassionate doctor standing next to my bed put it. "Good", I thought to myself as I struggled to maintain the SLIGHTEST degree of comfort. I was also struggling to remember WHY I was there, in the Hospital, on a Gurney, in the town I USED to live in. I blinked wearily up at the doctor, who was, in turn, struggling NOT to meet my stare.
"Ah", I thought I remembered vaguely........"I was out running around the Lake....couldn't breathe, and THEN, couldn't make my legs work." I remembered wondering HOW was I EVER going to get back to my car........? Flash forward in my mind to having SOMEHOW made it back home, to watering my flowers while STILL attempting to breathe, because SOMEHOW, I KNEW, that if I LEFT- I may not be coming BACK- not, at least, any time SOON..
I lay back on the Gurney, closing my eyes. They were searing with heat, my head was pounding, and I was STILL struggling to breathe..........I opened them, and saw my Father. Of COURSE he had come, bless him- they had TOLD him NOT TO. "She has SARS, we believe", I had overheard the staff saying into the phone, the split- second after I had given them my Father's cell number....."Highly contagious- she's in a Reverse Air- Flow room"..... "We're administering Oxygen- her SATS are at 71%", they said, referring to my Oxygen Levels on room air; normal is around 99-100. They begin to be concerned at 97.
My Father, dressed in a Space Suit, and sounding like Darth Vader,stepped into the room. The one that he was not supposed to enter. "What in the Hell is WRONG with you?!?", he asked, in an incredibly irritated sounding voice, that I KNEW meant that he was GOD-AWFULLY concerned. "Well," I responded, in between gasps for air, "I couldn't breathe, and it's a real hobby of mine- breathing. Normal people do it all of the time, not to insennuate that I am NORMAL, by ANY means, Dad"- I responded flippantly, as I knew was expected of me. I get my dry wit, my English sense of humor from him.....The KING of Sarcasm. This is what I have ALWAYS called him. I have to watch myself even today, as I can become sarcastic at the drop of a hat. He grunted appreciatively. "Good", I thought, "I've at least pleased him- made him laugh", I thought. It was HARDLY a LAUGH, but it was SOMETHING......SORT OF positive.
My mother and sister were both out of town- my sister LIVED out of town..... she never DID come in town for THIS.... this THING that had hold of me- had for a LONG time.... this thing that had my ex-husband, Hell- BOTH of them- (they are BOTH doctors- did I SAY that I was SANE????LOL!!!) calling me a Hypochondriac at EVERY turn.... this THING that robbed my children of their Mother, my students of a Trainer. This THING, that all of the doctors, and we are talking about..... well,..... WAY over 17 or 18, called me Hysterical or Hypochondriacal over, (did I MENTION that my DOCTOR husband called EVERY SINGLE DOCTOR that I was to see, BEFORE I HAD EVEN MET THEM, saying, "my wife is to see you today- please do NOT give her any Prescription Pain Killers, because she is a Hypochondriac, and exibiting addictive thinking patterns- there's NOTHING wrong with her"... I DIDN'T??? Well, he did.) this ................THING.
So.....I had between 3-6 months. That was over 8 years ago.
You see........ you do NOT have to accept that Prognosis.
After ALL.....it's just ONE MAN'S OPINION.
I felt that old roil building up....... that "Oh YEAH????? Wanna BET?????" coming on me..... the REASON that I rode that Bull, when I was 16- the BOYS said that I couldn't... I was a GIRL.... That "YEAH???? WELL..... MAKE ME", attitude come over me, as I closed my swollen, burning eyes.......Systemic Lupus, Scleroderma AND Rheumatoid Arthritis.... THREE STRIKES......... and, "Oh YEAH?????? I'm NOT OUT!!!!!
WATCH MY SMOKE!
