Cooties

I haz them. I'm fairly sure I brought it on myself by snarkily commenting it was a sad sad day when I was the healthiest and most sober person at any gathering of bikers. The Universe tapped it's brakes and went, "Really. I've got a minute, allow me to clear this up." Within 24 hours it was clear I had it, too.
Cooties, the crud, sickies, Martian Death Flu (stolen with love from a Reader's Digest article sometime in the 70's that I remember making me actually long for 'flu because it seemed to me they were getting pretty good rest). No matter what you call it, I have it. What is an inconvenience and makes others feel merely crummy can kill me. Easily. I almost made it 6 months out of bypass & valve replacement with no infection. Missed it by a damn week. But it's more than some imagined goal, because my heart valve was damaged by fevers of the past - rheumatic fever in my teens, chicken pox at 25, double pneumonia at 28...you see the trend.
So, yeah, I'm scared. Because even though I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do medically, at any moment whether I'm home or in hospital my heart can say, "Nope."
Cheery enough for you? Me neither. But that us why I haven't made another entry until now. I couldn't look at the screen for long without getting dizzy as a sportswriter offered free buffets for life.
I'll try to do better.

Against My Better Judgement

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