Finally, today I have felt like reading a few blogs, and even commenting on a couple of them. There’s a long way to go before I feel like me again, but that’s a start.
Why? You ask why? Well, let me share my adventure with you. Approaching mid-October, I knew I didn’t feel well, but apparently I had no clue as to how unwell I was. It wasn’t until I started sending my kids texts that were garbledy-gook that my daughter raised the alarm, calling neighbors, calling the ambulance, which came and took me to the hospital. Good thing. I had pneumonia in the right lung – unusual they said – and was not getting the oxygen I needed, hence the nonsensical texts.
Kathryn drove down the next day, and stayed with me for the week I spent in the hospital, then packed up many of my things and drove me to her house in the north of Oregon. I am ensconced there now – for the winter at least, maybe permanently. That remains to be decided.
I feel more secure here. This whole episode, the idea that I could get so sick and not know it – was horrifying. Frightening. Had she not called in the troops when she did, the lack of oxygen could have killed me – and I’m not ready to go.
So now the journey of regaining my strength has begun, and each day I see a wee bit of improvement. I have my space, my furry kids plus their furry kids, my looms, my life. What more could I want? I have my adult kids, who care enough to intervene.
I have enough.