Saturday, October 15, 2011

As Good As It Gets

I know what you're thinking: Aren't you supposed to be out by now? Alas, I'm still here in the clinic. Since the last post, I've been dealing with a couple of issues, the first of which is cleared, but the second has me sitting overtime.

So as not to bury the lead, the really good news is that a CT scan on things completely different revealed to the docs that the mass of dinghies has been reduced "considerably." Kaboom. A whole lotta them defenseless, inept nils got (and still are getting) hammered into eternal silence. And that's what we're here for, right?

Every Night Fever

The only thing between me and a week or so of leave is that the docs need to get to the roots of whatever's causing my 2-3x daily fever outbreaks. Been on antibiotics and fever-sinkers for a week now to keep things in check. Docs will let me walk as soon as I can show them 48 consecutive hours of fever-freeness.

The most plausible root cause is a lung infection, which the station chief doc suspected a few days ago and, on that hunch, changed the antibiotics accordingly. The fever outbreaks first started due to a harmless skin bacteria getting into my bloodstream (well, harmless if you have an immune system). Now that my immune system has reached the "out of quarantine" point, it's dealing with the skins in the bloods' 'hood, no problem.

So, on his hunch, the doc had ordered some tests to identify the cause. He didn't think they'd happen until Monday, but he got 'em already for Friday. So I ran that gauntlet today. Boy, have they gotta lotta wild rides downstairs.

First results are in. We can strike any heart bacteria issues. Lung function is 90% of normal, whereby usually I'm at 110%, (And the 90% was a real shocker, what with all the shortness of breath I've been experiencing. Lab results on Monday will show which lungus fungus is among us. (On the bright side of all this, said the station chief, they're getting a sort of "trial run" of the complications to be watching for in my donor transplant.)

Being out of quarantine, I can go out whenever I don't have my standard infusions (8:00, 14:30 and 20:00), or am not presently knocked flat with fever and chills, when there's nothing I want more than a bed, three blankets, and some tunes to which to chill. So I'll go out each day for brunch, lunch or dinner. And if that's as good as it gets for now, I'll take it.

Flowery, Hippie Talk

The film that inspired today's post headline actually came to mind a few days ago. There's one particular line therein that really hit me, and to this day has stuck with me. It's when Jack Nicholson -- at the big date that he finally got with Helen Hunt, just before she's about to storm out in disgust, in his last-ditch, big pitch -- says to her, "You make me want to be a better person." It's a great line not only in the romantic sense but also in the broader, greater sense of life. In rethinking my new life goals, my calling after recovery, the things I still want to achieve in life, at work, in my life's work, there's a common thread of "have a positive impact on people."

I was reminded of that thread during one of the many political / trivial / philosophical conversations that took place during the course of ca. 20 days with a same-aged roommate, just days before he got his walking papers (two days ago). He said, "I don't know much about this illness, but I know that if you're in the clinic for it, the best thing that can happen to you is to share a room with Chris Goold. You've helped me look at things in a new way. To think more positively. Thanks."

I kinda thought he was going a bit over the top. I mean, you could also wind up with a stand-up comic, or an incredible story-teller, or a guy in a bear suit, or a pantomime horse, or just some guy who's got that Hugh-Downs-constantly-on-the-verge-of-busting-out-laughing look. So many, man, so many. Still, it was quite a nice compliment to hear.

Later thinking about it, even though he'd said when we first chatted that he was positive about things, over the course of the ensuing days, I'd notice things like his getting out of out of bed and moaning and saying, "Aw, sh*t, yet another day in this cell." And I'd retort with something to the effect of, "Hey, man, it's another day of getting this sh*t behind you."

I figured that I was probably at some point going to really get on his nerves. Like the character of 70s/80s TV that said ad nauseum, "Well, look on the bright side, at least…" (If anybody remembers the reference, please let me know.) But hey, I'm in honey badger mode now. Crazy f***. I don't give a sh*t. I see negativity even high up in a tree, I climb up and just take it down. Over the course of our joint stay here, I noticed a gradual change in his comments. Even his encouraging me with "look on the bright side" quips when I was having it rough. And I thought, cool, I had a positive impact. It's really true: If you're positive, it'll rub off on others. Spread the love, Peace, Flowers, and all that softy, hippie-freak stuff. It works.

The Crazy, Yet Sensible, Honey Badger

The reason I'm posting this on a Saturday -- friends, family and colleagues alike, you'll be pleased to know -- is that I'm a sensible honey badger. I listened to my body and conked out right after dinner on Friday.

Earlier yesterday afternoon, when a doc asked what I was gonna do that evening to celebrate getting a rough day behind me, I said that I was going to go to the Italian restaurant, have a pizza, and imbibe in my first glass of red wine in over 4 months -- but after I lie down for a while to shake off the day's medications.

Didn't have that wine after all. When he wakes up with a dizzy head, and his legs alone can't support him without a nearby chair or wall to brace himself, honey badger knows when to give a sh*t -- and to settle for pizza delivery and a glass of apple juice. As good as it gets.