My Lazy Lung

"Breath is Spirit. The act of breathing is Living. ~Author Unknown"

The complexity of something so simple is astounding to me. One second, you're lying on the couch enjoying the mindless shenanigan's of a syndicated sitcom, the next, you are flat on your stomach, on the floor, trying to talk yourself into ignoring the pain caused by inhaling long enough to take one more breath. It's a funny thing, this moment... Alright, not so funny IN the moment, but later, you will laugh. I promise.

I think you now know what led to me being in this hospital bed. Starting with the pain of what appeared to be a pinched nerve in my right shoulder blade (Aug. 9th), I tried to stretch it out by laying down. That was a mistake. I remember chuckling at my wife when she was sprawled out on the bed, a couple years ago, with a pinched nerve, thinking she was being a weenie... She was happy to return the favor... With interest.

After learning to laugh at myself while having a diaphragm on fire, I picked myself up off the floor and iced my shoulder for the remainder of the night. The next morning (Aug 10th), I made my way to the Chiropractor to be radiated (X-Rays), poked (acupuncture) and twisted (adjustment). I went back the next day, as well, before going to my job to hand in my doctor's note. They sent me to the clinic they use, in case the injury occurred on the job. It was there I was told the true source of my pain.

Spontaneous Pneumothoraux
**If you've never heard of this condition, you're not alone. I had never heard of it before Thursday (Aug. 11th). I put a link in the name of the condition (above) so that you could become familiar with the types of Pneumotharaux that exist. This is a painful and, apparently, common thing. If you or a loved one are 20-30 years old, then read about it and know what the symptoms are.**

Thursday afternoon, after walking around with my lung laying atop my stomach, I was admitted to the E.R. with a collapsed lung. I was treated as a First Priority Patient. I was the least nervous person in the room. I was swarmed by upwards of 18 people at times, signed more pages of consent than I've ever seen, set up with an I.V., and had a tube in my chest faster than the Micro-Machine Man could read a disclaimer about choking on his product. It all went pretty smoothly, aside from having to readjust the tube twice after the initial insertion.

After an overnighter, a few more doses of radiation, and a sippie cup that probably cost ME more than the wheelchair that I rode out on, I was off to live my life... for Three Days.

On Monday (Aug. 15), I went to the doctor's office because I didn't feel as well as I believed I should have. I was right to worry. My lung had decided to take another vacation to Tropic of Stomach: South Resort. Great news... if you like bad food, needles in your arms and tubes in your chest. Good thing the morphine is plentiful! I had scar tissue that was still rather fresh. I didn't want a tube sucking on my insides for 3-4 days, trapped in the off-white walls and yellow rustic of that bed. As if I had a choice, right?

I could write a novel about my experience at this facility, but I'll keep this post short. Today (Aug 17th), I have been in this room for over 48 hours and have at least 24 remaining. Possibly, 48. I keep sane by posting on FaceBook, Twitter, and reading about the relationship of The Pioneer Woman and Marlboro Man. Even more than all the technology, Becky has been here. She has kept me laughing, played cards with me and played a whole lot of "Go-For!" When I was stuck in this bed so long that my tailbone feels bruised, she was the one running down the hall for ice, holding my hand whileni try to get up and go to the restroom, or pick everything up because bending over makes my lung hurt. She has really put her fear of this situation on the back burner and made sure I was comfortable. What else is new, that's how she operates. Enjoy laughing at my pain as I hope to post anecdotes and quips on Revamp the longer I stay.

I would like to say that I love my readers and am happy to be able to post this story. It could have been a more tragic story, brought to you from another view point. Life IS that fragile.