Take it slow…
It feels good to be back…I’ve been bed ridden for two weeks now, visited the ER three times in two weeks, admitted for confinement for 3 days and been diagnosed with acute bronchitis and other sorts of infections. I guess my body is shutting down on me, been living life on the fast lane and it’s telling me to slow down a bit…I’ve been isolated from the world for so long, I was so disoriented when I stepped out of the house after a 40 degrees temperature. I had fever for a good two weeks and became worse for the last 6 days even after antibiotics.
What’s funny is my friend keeps bringing me to the ER and those damn interns just gave me paracetamol and discharge me even with high fever. So I went back home, days of delirious fever, chills, sweat, inflamed throat and short breathing… I thought I was going to have temporary blindness with the headaches from the recurrent fever…they didn’t want to confine me because I was just on my third day of antibiotics so they let me suffer good 6 days. Or was it because I was using my MEDICARD and they didn’t want to admit me cuz I wasn’t going to pay anything, I hope not, cuz that is really BAD, well that was the speculation of my officemates. Antibiotics are suppose to take effect on the third day or fourth and I was in the 6th day and I woke up with 40 fever and rising…what an ugly experience, almost a week locked up in the house with no one taking care of me, no one to talk to and no one to remind me of my medication hours…it felt like an eternity in hell…there were times where I’d drink my meds every four hours with nothing on my stomach, I knew it was bad but I couldn’t even move to prepare food and I bump on everything every time I tried to get up…I didn’t want to bother anyone cuz everyone was busy tending to the work I left in the office…days went by and I didn’t know if I was getting better or just getting used to the fever every 5 hours and the low energy, I drank more than 20 tabs of 650mg paracetamols to relieve me from fever within those days, my sweat smelled of medicine and I knew it’s just getting worse…my friend rushed me to the hospital again for the third time *(thank you Stef, what would have happened to me if you weren’t there) and I went straight to a specialist and the doctor probably feels bad for how skinny I got and admitted me for confinement…after freaking’ days of suffering they confined me to my last breath…what do they care, people die everyday and there are worse trauma victims than little old me…
It’ so hard when life throws you off plan, my life was put on hold, but life always follows…I almost lost two paying projects, and they had to settle the magazine closing without me. I never really got any rest nor was able to complete enough sleep to recuperate, I’m always thinking and worrying about the deadlines I was putting on hold and the people I had waiting. Good thing the people I was talking to had the heart to wait up until I get out of the hospital and the magazine took two extra week to get to the printer cuz they had to work with me remotely at home. My first night in the hospital was so depressing. I’ve never felt so helpless and alone. I guess no matter how independent you claim to be you’ll always need other people’s helping hand. I had to ask someone’s help just for me to go to the washroom or to help me change my shirt, or help me with my drinks and food cuz every time I tried to move blood flows through my dextrose. I thought I wouldn’t have to call my mom cuz I didn’t want to worry her but times like that no one will be by your side but your mom…I am so grateful for my officemates who’d run to my rescue every time I would have delirious attacks…
It was like a wake up call, I move my life in haste neglecting that I have limits…I was always pushing myself til I could no longer get up…it was really bad…party all night long then work all day the next day not having enough sleep, smoke like a chimney and drink like there’s no tomorrow…anything in moderation is good but too much of everything is always bad…I was living my life every moment, enjoying it to bits, but I was pushing too hard…it’s hard to be responsible at the same time live recklessly…
It’s been three weeks and I haven’t touched a cigarette, this should be good, I’m giving it to rest already. I’m only 24 and in a few days I’m turning 25, I want to live so many more years and enjoy every waking moment…I was so mad at my self for allowing this to happen…when you’re life is slipping within your grasp every thing you worked so hard for flashes before you and all you can do is cry…it’s so hard to let go…I would stare at the ceiling of my room and count the days when I can get better and promise myself every minute that I would take better care of my self…good thing it wasn’t kidney problems like what they thought it was or whatever worse infection I could have been in…I was still a lucky bitch…
I get tired easily now and always short of breath, it sucks…but I’m taking it slow…I’m eating regularly now, trying to bulk up a bit…I got so thin I looked like Sadako in my hospital gown…sigh…