It’s a good thing they don’t put CF clinics in high-rises. 10 floors or above today and I would have base-jumped. Me talking to myself on the way down: I have a feeling I forgot an essential piece of equipment.
The news pushing me out the window: my PFTs did not recover from the last bout of the flu and IVs. I tried to fight the virus for too long before admitting myself to the Hospital California (“you can check out anytime, but you can never leave”) and damage may have been done.
“Oh, the horror . . . the horror.” (It always makes me feel better to think of pudgy, bald Marlon Brando at times like this.)
Will jumping from clinic’s third floor kill me? Can someone sharpen a dozen spears and place them in my landing spot? Will Martin Sheen shoot me at the end of the film?
Would it be like Groundhog Day if I kept leaping from the hospital room each day, only to be brought back to heal? Will Bill Murray play me in the sequel? Too old.
We probably should have gone longer with the IVs. But then again, I would have had kidneys the size of beach balls when I left, and the joy and bragging rights of going a week without peeing. Watch me drink this five-gallon bottle of water. Gulp, gulp. Gone. Nothing coming out. Magic. Let’s see David f’ing Copperfield top that?
My most excellent doctor believes my sinuses may be contributing to my low numbers and reinfection. So, I started Cipro today and have an appointment with a new ENT next week. I’ll play along with my doctor and hope he’s right. He usually is. However, this time I doubt it.
My decline was a combo of the flu biting me in the ass, going under for my Bluetooth chest port, and the amount of fluid they filled me with Willy Wonka style, which makes me think how much the hospital is like the Willy Wonka factory. Fall in the chocolate river and you’re hosed. Eat the blueberry candy and you’re a balloon. Kiss a nurse and . . . magic gumdrops fall from the sky? That sounds okay. Hold it. Where am I going with this? I got distracted by the image of the nurse with the rump-rounding shoes again. Happens six times a day.
I’d just like to say “thank you” in advance for honoring me with the “most motivational CF blog post” award for this one. It’s an honor and I’ll make sure I’m holding the trophy in my hand when I jump out of the clinic window.