My story really starts on April 12th, when my little sister Kiki and I went to see Elvis Costello at the Paramount in Seattle. Kiki bought my ticket as a birthday present for me, and Bee and I flew up to the PNW for a week to visit my family and so that I could see this show. My sister and I had seen Elvis Costello some 30 years ago at the Paramount, so we were quite excited to be going again. On the day of the show we took a bus to downtown Seattle with plans on meeting up with some old friends for pre show drinks and appetizers. The problem was I wasn't feeling very good. Bee, Sparky and I had all been under the weather with colds and coughs and were tired and a little bit grouchy. I wasn't very hungry, I was actually feeling a bit nauseous, but I rallied myself because it was Elvis Costello! and I had been soooo looking forward to this concert. So I picked myself up and managed to nibble some appetizers and half heartedly sipped my drink, thinking that I would most certainly feel better by the time the show started. Once at the concert I found myself having a great time, even though I couldn't stop coughing. Elvis Costello had a giant wheel-of-fortune-type-wheel-contraption that listed his top songs, and he invited guests from the audience to join him on stage to spin the wheel which would determine what song he would do next. It was pretty awesome. Elvis has a huge repertoire of songs - he is exceedingly prolific and it was great hearing him do such a wide variety of numbers.
But then about half way through the show I started burning up. It felt like my face was on fire. I went to the bathroom to wash my face off with cold water, and then decided that I felt like absolute shit and there was no way that I could go back inside and sit in my seat and be in such close proximity to others. My back ached and I felt like I was going to throw up. So I sat inside the lobby of the theater where I could still hear the show. I sat there for an eternity and felt bad. I could not believe how long the concert went on, it seemed to last forever. All I wanted to do was lie down in bed. Finally it was time for the encore, which lasted for I swear to god at least forty minutes. I truly wish that I had been inside the theater next to my sister and old friend Teena, enjoying the show instead of out in the lobby feeling like death. It was so unlike me because I hardly ever get sick. And then finally - finally the doors of the theater opened, people spilled out into the lobby, and the concert was over. Oh, happy days! I looked for my sister and spotted her in the crowd, and she was shocked that I was feeling so crappy. She wondered what had happened to me, and she helped me to the parking structure where Teen had parked her car. I threw up in the bathroom, and Kiki told me that some women were looking suspiciously at my stall, probably thinking that I had had too much to drink. I wish! We drove home without further incident, but I proceeded to vomit some more once we landed. I told Kiki that I was sorry, that I never should have gone to the show, and she should have brought our little brother instead because he would have enjoyed it way more than I did. At this point I still just thought I had the flu, but it turned out to be more than that.
The next day just got worse, and I still couldn't hold anything down. I was afraid I was getting dehydrated, and everyone wanted me to go to the hospital. But I still just thought it was the flu, and that I would be fine in a day or two. Then my back started aching and every time I coughed my chest hurt, and I started having difficulty breathing. I also had a high temperature. My mother insisted I go to the emergency room, and I finally agreed. So on Friday the 13th, my mother, sister and brother drove me to the hospital where I was promptly seen and told that I most likely had pneumonia. The doctor did a chest x-ray, and told me yes indeed, I had pneumonia. I was also dehydrated enough to warrant an IV of fluids, and given an array of prescriptions to take home with me. The doctor told me that I had a sort of bubble full of fluid in my right lung that most likely was due to my pneumonia. This kind of freaked me out but he didn't seem too concerned, so I assumed he knew what he was talking about. He also thought that it might be tuberculosis so I was given a TB skin test. Luckily I didn't have to stay overnight in the hospital, but I was told that I was too sick to fly in a few days and that I would have to change my flight.
I spent the next week recuperating on my parents living room sofa, propped up on pillows which enabled me to breath better. I was so congested that I could hear a sort of crackling in my lungs whenever I laid down flat on my back. Poor Bee had to do without me (and her daddy), but my parents managed to keep her entertained while I recovered from my bout of pneumonia. I was still nauseous and had to take anti-nausea pills to keep what little I managed to eat inside of me. I did drink a ton of fluids but I had no appetite and no energy, and felt utterly run down and out of it. I slept a lot. Slowly I started to feel a bit better and Bee and I flew back home to Los Angeles on a sunny Saturday. My parents were happy that I was on the mend, and damned happy that I was no longer camped out on their couch.
Since Sparky and I don't have insurance, we knew that we would have to pay for the emergency room out of pocket. I also had to pay more money to change the airline tickets even though I had a note from the doctor (airlines really have no mercy for travelers with emergencies - none.) My trip to Seattle ended up being a very expensive trip. But at least I was on the way to being healthy again. I was told by the emergency room doctor that I would have to see a doctor as soon as I got back to Los Angeles, just to make sure that the pneumonia was gone. No problem, I thought, it will be a breeze to go to a clinic and be given a clean bill of health. I was anxious to get back to my life, and assumed that everything was fine. But I was wrong, so very, very wrong.
(to be continued...)
Yay for writing this. Boo for what happened.
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