If I was to tell you the story of my week and then you told me about yours, who do you think would have the best tale?
Mine actually starts a couple of weeks ago when I get the cold. I call it THE cold because it’s the same one that everybody else in the North has had this winter. We share this beast, as our paths cross. We shake hands and we hug and we both go about our business hacking, coughing and spitting up an obnoxious green ooze.
After a couple of weeks of continual discomfort I make my way to a walk-in clinic looking for help. Since September the Doc has seen nothing but cold and flu victims and is craving those warm summer days when he sees the odd broken limb of some sort. He doesn’t care, even a broken finger would be appreciated.
Because he detects a wheeze in my lung I get the cold and flu speech but I also get a bonus prize, a small box containing 6 small antibiotic capsules with instructions:
take 2 today, then one per day until all done
By Saturday morning I’m even closer to the end of life then I was on Wednesday, Marilyn takes me back to Clinic. He takes one look at me and directs Marilyn to take me to the hospital Emergency where they take my blood pressure and move me to the head of the line.
By mid afternoon they’re bored with poking thousands of tiny holes in me and send me home. Fast forward to dinner time. I’m fading again. Marilyn calls 911 and I get to strike “ride in an ambulance with sirens blaring” off my bucket list and they check me back in. They tell us I’m having a massive stroke. I know I have completely lost my balance, can’t put two words together, can’t talk any language known to humans and only understand that I’m being asked a question and have no idea what the question was. The doctor’s question me, I look at Marilyn, she answers. Repeat.
Sunday morning the tests continue: they now decide I’ve not had a stroke but everything is ready and will happen at any second. As the day wears on we’re not talking stroke, instead they’re calling it all a “warning.”
Monday, more tests, millions more tiny holes in my body, they send me home, with an appointment for the Stroke Clinic Tuesday.
There, the neurologist says I didn’t have a stroke, or a mini stroke or even a TIA. I had “an extreme, severe high blood pressure incident” and bids us a good day. As we’re leaving he checks my blood pressure one last time and it’s lower than it’s ever been in my life.
Today I continue to improve. I’m still confused but feel much more normal. Marilyn has made an appointment for a test and a meeting with the doctors to explain what’s been happening with my cute (and cuddly) body. and that happens tomorrow
One thing there is absolutely no question about is that I’m so grateful for what seems like the hundreds ( maybe thousands) of concerned and loving friends we have.
So, tell me about your week?
“To be old and wise you must first be young and stupid”
Thank you for the read