On June 27th of this year, my lungs, never very reliable in the first place, betrayed me; I was taken in an ambulance, and I spent a night and part of the day in the hospital watching Tosh.0 and watching the charge on my cell phone diminish slowly,
They wouldn't let me leave Sans Oxygen tanks. I went home with two tanks to await the arrival of three more and an "oxygen concetrator"
This last Monday my GP gave me the go-ahead to send those back. I'm not recovered, but I am getting stronger by the day. My lungs are less inflamed, and I am using an inhaled corticosteroid to keep the asthma down.
it is also apparently for Lycanthropes: It's nice to see werewolves have good family time.
Thanks for your patience. Thanks for my family, who helped me through Hospital and recovery.
Some suggestions on how to have fun with this type of situation.
- ask the nurses if they can wheel you down to the morgue to shop for a replacement cornea
- suggest to the man who delivers your oxygen tanks that you will just refill them at a gas station airpump(they will freak out trying to tell you why tha is a bad idea)
- call the velcro straps I am using to keep the the O2 line coiled "oxygen pimps" because they keep the hose in check.
Oh, and my internist at the hospital was about 80% of this man. He had the accent, the bald head, and the intense blue eyes. I happened to mention that to my nurses, and found that I was not the first to have voiced or considered that resemblence