Not to complain, but, I'm, well, complaining.  The only place I ever seem to vacation is at the hospital & it's getting old.  After checking in at the ER at 11:30 I finally got checked in at 1:30 & finally around 6pmish the ER doc, a WONDERFUL woman, admitted me with pleuresy & pneumonia. It showed up on the x-rays you could hear me wheezing & such, it sounded like Freddy Kruger making a prank phone call.  The next thing I know, a resident from my regular doctor's office was trying to tell me it was a panic attack & I should just go home.  I not quite so politely told the nurse what I thought of him & if she saw him to tell him that Burger King was hiring & it might be a good career choice for him & I didn't want him back in my room period. 

I ended up admitted for 2 days in "short stay" a very tiny walk in closet type room where they can monitor you closely for a short period of time.  The nebulizer treatments made me hack up my lungs & (tmi coming up be prepared) prolapsed organs play slip n slide when I coughed.

They thought my medicine may be sedating me to the point where I wasn't breathing well so they really barely gave me anything - 400 mg Ibuprophin, let's face it folks, that's laughable.  My head felt like dice being shaken inside some poor bloke's hand at a craps table hoping to feel lucky.  This was from all the coughing.  I couldn't tell you which was more painful, the pleuresy or the headache.

Well, I proved them wrong-not even on any medication, not asleep, my blood pressure dropped to 80 over something & my breathing was minimal.  This proved my doctor's suspicions of hypoxia, then again, in the middle of the night, just like when I had my surgery, awake or asleep didn't matter I ended up on 2 litres of oxygen.  This brought my stats up to an acceptable 94.  Walking without any aids but a sat monitor on my finger & a nurse pulling me along I was at 84 or 82. 

Isn't it thoughtful that my ex-husband hasn't paid the local pulmonologist so I can't get a sleep test done.  Oh, did I not tell you the story of the ex-husband? So sorry, let me catch you up.

We both had been contemplating it because we make eachother crazy-he's frustrated with my illnesses keeping me from being June freaking Cleaver & obsessed with a spotless house - this doesn't happen with 2 teens & 3 little guys but apparently his mother managed it somehow.  He doesn't want to engage in conversation when home, tv is his escapism from reality, the louder the better.  It is so loud it often drives me out of the room.  While I have concerns with his obsession with spending money on non essentials while I'd prefer to have utilities & food in the house.  So, on my 4 week visit from my hysterectomy he was seeing a lawyer - he told me I'd let myself go, the house go & everything around us.  He visited me in the hospital to tell me he'd fight tooth & nail for primary residency of the kids with him based on my health, I'm not sure that's even legal.  Anyway, my soon to be ex has been playing "super dad" while I've been sick.  It seems to always be one thing after another but if the saying of bad things running in 3's is true, hopefully I have better days coming. I've been out of the hospital a little over a week & I'm just wiped out still.  So, my suggestion to you all is 1) don't get sicker than you already are 2) vacationing staring at sterilized walls isn't fun & 3) ex husbands can be helpful sort of on occassion if still very cruel...