It’s Alive!

Well, I’m alive. Although I have spent the last week mostly wishing someone would relieve me of that burden and put me out of my misery.

It started with what I thought was a stitch in my side. Like normal people get from running. It usually passes after a few minutes. I figured it was just the fat lady smoker who swills coffee and diet soda version of the same. Only it didn’t pass. It got successively worse over the course of a week.

After overย an entire week of being borderline bedridden with sporadic fevers, a wracking cough that reduced me to tears, the energy level of a sedated slug, and the uncanny ability to lose the capacity for breathing before reaching the end of the hall, I finally decided Monday morning that I’d had enough.

T was somewhat relieved. I think being afraid that the ever growing pile of dirty dishware in the sink was going to either breed wildlife or result in an invasion by the EPA, or FEMA, or whomever the heck condemns your home when the dish fairy, laundry fairy, and meals and general care fairy can’t function on the most basic of levels for entire week was a driving factor. Possibly the horror of having to exist on takeout and whatever can be pan fried, grilled or blackened, and (GASP!) having to match his own socks helped too. At any rate, after having to stop halfway across the pasture with tears rolling down my face and plead with one of the horses to allow me to lean on her long enough to catch my breath drove me over the edge and I came to the conclusion that an ER trip was in order.

I decided they would either break the news I was going to croak, or help me do so. Or at least let me know the reason why I felt like it was imminent and necessary. I had serious visions of small creatures inside my chest and lungs with little sharp pointed objects stabbing the bejesus out of my innards every time I tried to draw a breath. I walked in with the reasonable fear that a chest tube was in my future. I’ve had that joyous rodeo once in my lifetime, and I really don’t care to enjoy it again.

Three hours and a series of chest x-rays later, my doctor (why do I always get the one who looks like a 13 year old Doogie Howser?) swept back into the room with his nurse-y entourage to tell me I’ve developed… Pleurisy. What?

I have managed to get an archaic condition that, Monday, I was lulled into believing had gone the way of, say, rickets…scurvy…polio…Only me. Sigh. Scurvy is likely next, since the last citrus I ingested was probably in a margarita and I’ve been alcohol free for the better part of a year.

You see, pleurisy, if you’ve never shared the experience, is what happens when foolish women (or men) get a cold, and continue to work themselves like dogs. Then it descends into bronchitis, and she keeps on truckin’. Then it reaches the edge of pneumonia. The lining of the lungs becomes so irritated and inflamed in spots that it becomes like sandpaper and causes sharp, shooting pains in the chest every time you attempt silly things like movement, or breathing. You want to punch people in the face if they successfully manage to make you laugh. Coughing fits will turn you into a quivering puddle of tears on the bathroom floor while you beg for someone to

So, the verdict is in. I’m not going to die and they’re not going to mercy murder me. I’m sent home by Doogie with a pile of prescriptions including steroids, anti-imflammatories, painkillers, and some fancy new cough suppressant “pearls” designed to disable the cough reflex nearly entirely. And strict instructions to rest and set a follow up appointment with my regular Doc that I will likely ignore. It’s spring, I’m now wayyyy behind, and if these do the trick I’ll be too busy playing catch up with more than this blog.

I am going to try and get a post up today to catch up on all the happenings during my week of forced silence. Hope all is well with everyone and spring has finally arrived.


Author: The Fun E Farm

We're a family in a tiny map dot called Frankford, DE, on 8 acres. I read waaaay too many homesteading books and articles and my heart's definitely in the right place, although it's not always commensurate with the ages old battle between the ambitions of a mere human versus the time on one's hands and the capabilities they possess. This blog is designed to chronicle our search for sustainability and sanity (which I'm not quite sure we ever possessed to begin with), working with what we have and whatever else we can put our broke-ass hands on. Now the disclaimers: If things that happen on a farm offend you, (i.e. POOP, the use of food animals for (gasp) food, birth, death, hunting, fishing, the occasional use of colorful (to put it politely) language, the participation of tiny humans in all of the above) well, then, suffice it to say, this may not be the place for you to spend any leisure time. This blog is not intended to be an instructional tool on how to do things correctly. More often, I can assure you, it will be more of a shining example of the "stuff we tried that was an epic failure of disastrous and occasionally comedic proportions" variety. If you haven't clicked the little "x" at the top right yet, read on, brave soul! Welcome to our crazy family!

13 thoughts on “It’s Alive!”

  1. I’d wondered what had happened to you ! Poor you ๐Ÿ˜ฆ I had pleurisy as a post viral complication many years ago while we were away on a road trip holiday. I landed in hospital in Canberra for many days. Even though we were parked right next to the ED entrance it took me a long time to walk in as I had to stop every couple of steps to catch my breath. I was on the verge of needing syringing out of fluids but thankfully the aspirin kicked in and reduced it enough for them to hold off. They only agreed to discharge me if we drove home in short stages. Normally a one day trip was taken in three. And I spent the next week in bed eating aspirin to help the fluid reabsorb. It’s a horrid thing to have. Hope you get better soon, but you really do need to take it as easy as you can.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I hear you. I’m trying, it’s hard when I am so behind now. My body is really not letting me do too much. I wouldn’t even wish this on my least favorite ex-husband on his most unlikeable day. I’m sorry to hear you had to go through it too. It really is dreadful. I’m feeling marginally better today, though. I may be able to stave off the EPA from my house…lol

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I know what you must be going through. But seriously, if you push too hard now, it will delay recovery , perhaps even lead to a relapse. That’s hard to do when you’ve got all that stuff staring at you waiting to be done. Are you able to get help from anywhere ?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I’ve got some. The boys are more helpful than I give them credit for sometimes. Unless it involves dishes or laundry…lol…and my daughter’s family is fixing to come for an extended visit soon which will get us a jump on all sorts of things. She thinks I’m joking when I comment about incoming migrant workers, but I will put them all to work ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  2. When I was about 12, robust, resilient and viceless Ma had complaints much like you described. I was mystified, I could tell she really hurt. She hadn’t fallen. Nobody had beat her up. I walked the 2+ miles with her to the doctor in the shopping center and waited. They said she had pleurisy which we’d never heard of. She got a bottle of pills and we walked back. I had to MAKE her sit still while I hoed the beans and cabbage, all her other usual tasks. She’s 85 now, living with me.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s kind of similar to broken ribs…only I knew I couldn’t have possibly done that! I can’t even imagine walking two miles with this nonsense. Your Ma is a trooper! And I’m guessing you probably still have a time getting her to sit still sometimes. People were certainly comprised of stronger stuff back then, it seems ๐Ÿ™‚


  3. Hi, so sorry to hear about this, but please go back for your check up, i did what you did (ignore) until you can’t move or breath, two years later I was still the same, until common sense and the joy for life penny dropped, go back, get rid of it completely, because if you don’t it will just keep coming back, every 3 months or so, especially the breathing problem, rest as much as you can and please go back to the Doc., it really is worth it. Take care


    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I made an appointment yesterday, as even my tired is tired and I may have to come off the meds because they are making me ill themselves. First time having to take a steroid for anything and I can honestly say it may be the last.


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