Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Pleurisy

Gather round, children, and let me tell you a little story. A terrible, terrible story.

I spent some time Saturday afternoon doing some grocery shopping and getting ready for a Bad Taste Party - you know, a party where people dress up in ridiculously offensive costumes and have a great time. While I was shopping I started developing a bit of a headache and my joints started feeling a bit sore - that achey body feeling that sneaks up when I'm either getting sick or that lingers while I'm getting over an illness. By the time I got home, I was starting to notice some discomfort in the left side of my chest. No biggie - I got ready for the party, packing an overnight bag in case I needed to stay over at my friend's house (yay, not having to come home at a decent time to relieve a babysitter means that I can actually drink at parties!).

At the party I was amazed to find that not only was my Bad Taste costume matched by someone who had come up with the exact same idea, but I was floored to discover that two party-goers managed to out-Bad-Taste me! I was thoroughly impressed, and thoroughly grateful that cameras were not allowed at this party. I spent the night joking and talking and partaking in libations, but all the while the pain in my chest grew and grew. By the end of the night I couldn't stand and chat in the kitchen with the other guests - I leaned heavily on the granite-topped island and rubbed at the pain that was spreading around my ribs into my back. I grew paler and paler as the pain increased.

"You don't look well," my friend told me after we said goodbye to the last party guests and headed upstairs for bed. She made up a hot water bottle for me, which I hugged greedily against my sore body, and offered me an over-the-counter acetaminophen painkiller with codeine in it. I downed the maximum dosage and gingerly tucked myself into her comfortable guest bed, pressing the hot water bottle against the ever-increasing pains. Despite being exhausted, and despite the codeine pills, the pain made it difficult to fall asleep, and when I did finally slip into slumberville I awoke three hours later with stabbing pains in my chest, back, and shoulder. I took more painkillers, but it took another two hours before they kicked in well enough for me to catch another measly couple hours of sleep. This wasn't good.

In the morning, my friend convinced me to see a doctor, and that I promptly did. The pain level was still increasing, and my breathing became restricted and shallow as every normal inhalation resulted in stabbing, crippling pain. Over the next two days I would see a total of four different doctors, get lab and x-ray tests done, and be given several possible diagnoses ranging from acid reflux to kidney stones. By the end of this nightmare, I was finally diagnosed tentatively with pleurisy - an infection of the protective lining around my lungs. It can cause excruciating pain, especially on inhalation, and it may have been precipitated by the sinus infection I was rocking two weeks ago.

I've been on antibiotics and prescription painkillers since Sunday - the day that a momentary lapse in self-medicating caused a couple hours' worth of pain I can only describe as similar to a strong labour contraction that never let up. It was crippling, I could barely breathe, and when I started to cry from the pain the involuntary gasps for air that my body took in between sobs left me feeling like I was being stabbed between the ribs each time. This caused more painful strangled sobs, which led to more awful gasps of air that led to worse pain, and so on and so on. Luckily, I did eventually arrest this terrible cycle, and within a couple of hours the painkillers kicked in. Nevertheless, I arranged for my daughter to remain with her father in Calgary while I recovered, and I continued to stay in my friend's care in case an emergency trip to the hospital was necessary.

I've missed two days of work now, and I will likely be back to work on Friday. I'm still in pain, but it's become manageable with medication and rest. The big question now is when I'll be able to get back on the bike. After all, the whole problem is my lungs and - well - the whole act of breathing. As the temperature drops to wintry freezing levels and I spend more and more days sitting on my ass "resting", I know that getting back on the bike again will be a slightly punishing experience on my lungs. So, when will I be able to do that again? From the vantage point of this moment, sitting at my computer and feeling the rumbling of my inflamed lung tissue rubbing against itself with each breath, having to press firmly against my chest to stem the pain that still comes in waves, I'm thinking it's not going to be this week.

We'll see what the future holds. As I continue to recover and regain my capacity to breathe properly again, I will let you know when I'll be able to get in the saddle again. Until then, I'm afraid this blog is likely going dark.

So long, my friends. I will see you on the other side!