I got pneumonia.
I had been trying to shake a fever for days thinking with enough pills and a heaping dose of denial
I would be fine by the time I landed in the Valley of the Sun. Not so much. With aches, chills, a
painful cough and a temp peaking around 104, it’s a wonder I survived the flight at all. The good
news is that my parents live in Arizona half the year and my mom has an arsenal of doctors on
hand. Within two hours I had seen the doctor, had a chest x-ray, was diagnosed and stocked
with half a dozen medications. Amazing. That just doesn’t happen here in DC. So although my
trip to Arizona felt more like a hospice visit, I’m thankful that I was in a place where the word
“healthcare” is still a literal term and there is a bright side to everything – even pneumonia.
My posts – like my breathing – may be a bit patchy while I recover.
I’ll be sure to deliver some fabulous photos of AZ when I’m back on my feet.