Well, it seems that the malaise that sent me to pick up a rescue inhaler Saturday so I could breathe at the Butterfly Festival turned out to be more than my ongoing allergy to airborne mold. Im knocked out of the box for a few days. By the way, malaise is the absolute correct word here, being defined as a general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify. Id been feeling weirdly out-of-sorts for two weeks or more, with decidedly less energy, sporadic ennui, and moments of sheer lethargy, negativity, and unfocused paranoia...you know, that horrible state when youre sick and dont know youre sick and then start worrying about everything that crosses your mind as a possible cause for things not being right? Anyway, Monday, tired of its hanging on, I went to the clinic and, thank God, the villain turns out to be a bronchial infection. I say thank God because I was starting to fear it might be pneumonia, which once--no kidding--came very close to taking my life. Anyway, now Ive got prednisone and a good antibiotic and Ill be taking those for nine more days. After just a couple of doses Im already feeling better, which might be mainly due to the enormous relief of finally knowing a cause for my feeling so strangely out-of-kilter for so long. I think Im posting this because Im so intrigued by the mental processes that go on with us whenever were taking ill with something. Annoyance, inconvenience, suspicion, fear, denial, anger, frustration, sometimes even terror...its just about all there, is it not? And then, if were lucky, there is revelation, redemption, and a joyful homecoming to health, and sanity Something like that, no? See you on the flip side.
Posted on: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 06:04:35 +0000
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