Tuesday night I found myself short of breath, partnered with an painful ache in my back. Having injured my back, drastically, back in January. Although I've been feeling a helluva lot better in the months since, I thought I might have tweaked my back. Not the case. The shortness of breath increased, followed by vomiting, sweats and chills. Finally on day 3, I went to the hospital.
It's pneumonia. Spent the entire day, hooked up to oxygen and an I.V., before getting uprooted and sent to another hospital, where I remained under observation and tethered to either an oxygen outlet on the wall or an oxygen tank that I could take along with me to the john, if needed. I was allowed at 3:30am to wander out, oxygen tank in tow, to search for a soda machine. Best damned Diet Pepsi, everrrr. Dressed in a housecoat, to cover my sexy butt, I had to pass through security to get back to observation, and the dude actually had to ask if I was a patient... "Seriously?" I asked, referencing the housecoat and oxygen tank.
More than twenty-four hours later, closer to twenty-six, I was allowed to return home, with a prescription for anti-biotics in-hand. I went to pick-up said prescription and god damn it that motherf*cker had a price tag of over $72. For 9 pills. One pill a day is all I'm required to take, and they want $72 for that shit. I flat out refused to pay and opted not to take the pills.
Most of my family.., nay all of my family would pay the outrageous price then bitch and moan about it. I'm more the type to thumb my nose at the establishment and say F*ck you. Seventy-two bucks for nine f*cking pills? Complete bullshit.
This isn't my first go around with pneumonia. This is actually my fourth bout with the deadly virus. Two years ago it was quite serious, more so because when the hospital took x-rays, they found a little extra goody on my right lung. Described at first as an anomaly, it later became a mass, then a large mass. Although the mystery seemed to get worse, the specialist seeing over my case, seemed to down play it, finally telling me in October of last year that she was sure it was "nothing". Fast forward to this past Thursday, where I was treated to an x-ray AND a CT Scan, I was informed that this "black mass" has increased in size. That it may be a contributing factor as to why I've become so susceptible to sickness as of late. The physician also told me some other doctor-jargon, a bunch of latin-sounding words that didn't make any sense to me, but by the serious tone the doctor kept and the first sign of compassion he'd shown toward anyone that day, had convinced me that I was in store for a whole lot of shit.
It's pneumonia. Spent the entire day, hooked up to oxygen and an I.V., before getting uprooted and sent to another hospital, where I remained under observation and tethered to either an oxygen outlet on the wall or an oxygen tank that I could take along with me to the john, if needed. I was allowed at 3:30am to wander out, oxygen tank in tow, to search for a soda machine. Best damned Diet Pepsi, everrrr. Dressed in a housecoat, to cover my sexy butt, I had to pass through security to get back to observation, and the dude actually had to ask if I was a patient... "Seriously?" I asked, referencing the housecoat and oxygen tank.
More than twenty-four hours later, closer to twenty-six, I was allowed to return home, with a prescription for anti-biotics in-hand. I went to pick-up said prescription and god damn it that motherf*cker had a price tag of over $72. For 9 pills. One pill a day is all I'm required to take, and they want $72 for that shit. I flat out refused to pay and opted not to take the pills.
Most of my family.., nay all of my family would pay the outrageous price then bitch and moan about it. I'm more the type to thumb my nose at the establishment and say F*ck you. Seventy-two bucks for nine f*cking pills? Complete bullshit.
This isn't my first go around with pneumonia. This is actually my fourth bout with the deadly virus. Two years ago it was quite serious, more so because when the hospital took x-rays, they found a little extra goody on my right lung. Described at first as an anomaly, it later became a mass, then a large mass. Although the mystery seemed to get worse, the specialist seeing over my case, seemed to down play it, finally telling me in October of last year that she was sure it was "nothing". Fast forward to this past Thursday, where I was treated to an x-ray AND a CT Scan, I was informed that this "black mass" has increased in size. That it may be a contributing factor as to why I've become so susceptible to sickness as of late. The physician also told me some other doctor-jargon, a bunch of latin-sounding words that didn't make any sense to me, but by the serious tone the doctor kept and the first sign of compassion he'd shown toward anyone that day, had convinced me that I was in store for a whole lot of shit.
Taking into consideration that my life may be in jeopardy as a result of this latest bout of sickness, should I really be concerned with a $72 bill for anti-biotics...? Yeah... I don't think my life is worth shelling out $72. Not for nine f*cking pills.
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