CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE: (NOT SO) HAPPY NEW YEAR!

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE: (NOT SO) HAPPY NEW YEAR!

This is it! This is the first blog chapter of 2015, and it’s already February 6. Without going into much gory detail, I will report to you that I was hospitalized with MRSA pneumonia from December 31 to January 12 in a hospital in Tucson, Arizona, where I was visiting my sister over the holidays. Yes, I could write a book about the health care system, or at least about Carondelet St. Joseph’s Hospital, but any book about the torture during the Spanish Inquisition pretty much covers what a patient endures day and night during her incarceration, er, hospitalization. Okay, I have never been in a hospital before for anything but an overnight transfusion and a very brief stay for a partial thyroidectomy – and for my birth – so my hospital view is clearly clouded by the years of good luck and relatively good health I have had. But really, is there any more unhealthy place in the world than a hospital? Of course, all the patients have some sort of illness or disease. And the nursing staff includes a lot of people who should have stayed at home to nurse their colds or flu, but can’t afford to miss a day. Guess Arizona does not allow for sick days.

But in addition to all the germs, bacteria and viruses, the living conditions are horrendous! You can’t sleep! I mean for the entire 11 nights I spent in the hospital I did not sleep, except for a few hours one night, when I had been given a pill to help me sleep. It was only a few hours, because at 1:15 a.m. yet another “new” doctor popped into my room, TURNED ON THE VERY BRIGHT OVERHEAD LIGHTS, and started talking to me. I awakened as though in a nightmare and shouted something, probably unprintable. But she just kept talking and then started asking me questions. Just when you think you have already met the most clueless person in the world, another even more clueless person appears in front of your hospital bed in the middle of the night to ask “How ya doing?” There has to be a special circle in Dante’s hell for doctors who awaken patients in the middle of the night. It’s probably over-crowded, but I’m sure they can make room for Dr. Chatty Pants from St. Joseph’s.

Enough about “The Confinement”, except to say that the Tucson oncologist would come into the room and immediately step on my oxygen line – every time.

As soon as I was discharged on Monday, the 12^th, the Admiral and I went back to my sister’s, packed our things, and hightailed it out of Tucson. Who knows where the MRSA was, which entered my lungs? Maybe it was on the airplane to Tucson. Maybe it was inside the hospital. Maybe it was in the air in Tucson. I just knew I wanted to get back to the boat and to a normal life of sleeping, eating and breathing without the aid of an oxygen tank. We drove, that is correct, we drove back to Key Largo. When we got to sea level between Houston and New Orleans, I didn’t need the oxygen any more, except for a few minutes at night. Thanks to RxO2 of Tucson for outfitting us with enough oxygen to cross the country. If you ever need oxygen, and I hope you don’t, Bill Baker’s business, RxO2, is the one to contact.

So here I am back on Slow Motion, trying to re-train my muscles for walking, bike riding, tai chi exercises. I had no idea my muscle tone would be totally deconditioned by a 12 day hospital stay. It’s scary. Tai chi is still a wonderful way to exercise and to relax, and I just did a full hour class on Thursday. Muscles, rejoice! Just a few more weeks and you’ll be toned anew. Better than ever, oh yeah. In the meantime,  I am also getting a lot of rest and the Admiral is making chicken soup for my soul. When cabin fever strikes, I head to Tavernier to the movies. The first time I went, there were about 8 other people in the theater, and it was for American Sniper. The second time I went, a rare rainy day, the parking lot was full to overflowing and my choice of movies (Imitation Game) was sold out! My second choice, Wild, still had seats in the first three rows, so I watched Reese hike the Pacific Crest Trail for two hours. I had just read the book by Cheryl Strayed – my advice: read the book, miss the movie. As to American Sniper, see the movie. I have not seen Michael Keaton in Birdman or the other Oscar nominees (Eddie Redmayne, B. Cumberbatch), but they have to be very, very good actors to hold a candle to Bradley Cooper in American Sniper.

Did I mention the trip to the Emergency Department of South Miami Hospital last week for a transfusion? Oh my God, just when I thought I was free of hospitals forever, I was snatched back into their bureaucratic bowels for another sleepless night in another uninhabitable room – this one had no working thermostat and the temp was somewhere around 55 degrees. My nose was frozen the whole time. Did you know that Sex and the City reruns are on from midnight to five am, when the channel switches to exercise shows? Either that happened, or I was trippin’ on the Benadryl. It was probably the Benadryl. I left that hospital at 8:30 a.m. with a roaring headache, so happy to be free again – and less anemic than when I entered. Now my job is to rest, rest, rest so that my bone marrow keeps producing red blood cells. It’s a difficult job, especially when my reading options are limited, but all I have to think about is another night in a hospital – and I am SO ready to rest.

Enough about horrible hospital experiences. Last weekend was great! Both Sonja and Sabina arrived on Friday and left Sunday afternoon. The Admiral made orzo. They biked around Key Largo. We drank mimosas Sunday morning and chatted and laughed. The hours flew by. The ocean was too choppy to take Slow Motion out for a spin. But there was plenty of sunshine, and Sabina even got a sunburn to show off when she returned to her D.C. law office. Sabina’s sense of humor is remarkably similar to the Admiral’s, and they have a good time poking fun at each other, Sonja and me. Sonja has put color in her wardrobe, starting with a splashy, flashy pair of over the knee Spandex pants from San Diego. Both young women have enviable positions in their law firms, but Sonja wants more creativity and independence. Whatever she wants, she will get. Tenacity is definitely her strong suit. The sky is the limit for both of them. And Sandra will join them soon as these three legal eagles take on the world. Their high energy is infectious, and for most of the weekend I actually felt pretty normal.

Finally, a shout out to my Admiral, my sister Sue and brother in law Butch and my Bethlehem Babes for keeping me sane – and alive – in the Tucson Hospital. Sue’s meat loaf was the best part of one day. All my BB’s messages were heartfelt and inspiring. The Admiral – well, the Admiral helped me get out of that place in one piece and he kept me from feeling sorry for myself – a good figurative kick in the backside took care of that. I expect to have a lot of new adventures this year, because I intend to stay healthy and ready for action. If you made it through this somewhat depressing blog, you will be happy to read that the next blog, and the one after that, and the one after that, will thrill and delight you and fill you with joy. Have I oversold them? Well, maybe just a little, but they will be more like the Sonja/Sabina visit paragraph – about good times with good people (and of course, the occasional political rant). Happy New Year!