I’m laying, or rather, reclining here in my hospital bed wondering what is happening with the world right now. Loneliness is real at times like this. I miss talking with Hal. I miss talking to the Stooges. The silence is deafening, which is a phrase I’ve always wanted to use in a sentence.
The diagnosis is pneumonia in one of my lungs. Several days of medication has made a big difference, and I believe that I’ll be getting another chest image on Friday to verify things are better. At least that’s the theory here in the middle of the night.
I was never as afraid in my life as I was on Tuesday night. I honestly was pondering my own mortality in a cold, clinical way as Hal called the ambulance. I was barely able to breathe, and I wondered if my time was really up. This recovery process has been much smoother than I imagined, and I’m grateful to the nurses and doctors for that.
But, here I am alone in the middle of the night, wishing that I was back home. Sometimes we can’t take the time to complete one thing before rushing off to do another.