Drained

So the breathing problem got worse overnight. I was not only gasping for air after walking a few feet,  but lying down I could only inhale a second’s worth of air.

I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I had an appointment for bloodwork in the morning and figured if there was an issue I’d go after that. Plus the last time I went to the hospital I lost a week of my life to amnesia and woke up with more health problems than a dog has fleas. And I had read shortness of breath was a chemo side effect, so I figured it would wear off.

But it was clear something was wrong. If it was chemo related or not, I needed help. Now.

My brother in law drove me to the ER, where I was placed in the lowest, most uncomfortable wheelchair ever made. Between gasps for air, the Seinfeld where George gets the busboy fired played in the waiting room.

My mind ran over several scenarios. My pneumonia was back. Another blood clot. Just a chemo side effect.

There was one diagnosis I was hoping it wasn’t. Even though it was probably the easiest to fix.

Finally after bloodwork, Xrays and a CAT scan, the diagnosis was in, and it was what I was afraid of.

Pleural effusion. Fluid collects around the lungs, pressing in on them, causing them to shrink.

This was not my first experience with it. Deb had it several times.

I knew there was an easy remedy: draw out the fluid by sticking a needle through the back. It’s not as bad as it sounds because you’re given a local anesthetic and the hole is small.

I just hoped it wasn’t that because I’ve already had enough callbacks to Deb’s ordeal, thank you very much.

But there it was. No doubt about it.

So they numbed a spot in my back and jabbed a needle in, and I watched as fluid filled one bottle, then part of another. There’s still more fluid in there, but the doctors will decide tomorrow whether it needs to come out.

For now, I’m spending the next night or so in the same hospital where I lost a week of my life and went from an ordinary guy to a cancer patient. Not where I hoped to be again.

On the other hand, it is where I reconnected with my belief in God, so the sweet is mixed with the bitter.

As it is in the rest of my life recently.