Death By Bronchitis
Monday, December 17, 2007Death By Bronchitis
Being at home alone at this sort of time really isn't what you'd hope to get, but here I am sitting in front of the computer at six in the morning, wondering how I am suppose to catch up on my sleep when I choke every hour while being flat on the bed. Six in the morning and sitting in front of the computer, when was the last time that ever happened without me feeling the drive to do so. I used to be excited about staying up till the next morning, rejoicing in the fact that the world is just about to wake while I am just about to go to sleep. There was that innocence involved I suppose, a kind of childish wonder about time traveling that involves the concept of 'today' and 'yesterday' which I will not go into details. But this time around, the itch in the back of my throat won't ease, and I am forced to stay up because I am tired of vomiting. I am tired of running to the bathroom and back with puke being washed off my fingers again and again. It's frustrating to know that the medicines are not working, and even more frustrating to see me succumbing to the disease.
I was just at Deuel's house yesterday, we were supposed to meet at his place at three. I was starving by the time I reached there, skipped my breakfast and lunch altogether because the drugs I took were just too powerful. I didn't know if I was going to make it to his place, but eventually I managed to survive both his dogs and my illness. The computer game was a great distraction, but that only lasted for so long until the illness started to worsen by the minute. The house started spinning, I couldn't utter a word because my throat was that sore. No amounts of water I gulped down at his place worked, which forced me to reduce my vocabulary down to the bare minimum. It was painful for me, not being able to speak. But then, I guess I am the only person to be blamed for this accursed disease, even if I am not entirely sure how I contracted it in the very first place. Nothing registered at his place today, I remembered a lot of mindless monster killing during the game, but after that was just great confusion around the rooms. Something about a soccer game upstairs, then a random piece played on the piano, followed by a short nap on the guest room bed. I felt like dying, perhaps I was already halfway there.
I had to leave the place early, had to be the wet blanket. Jonno was nice enough to leave with me, though I am sure he would have stayed longer if it wasn't for my bad day. But it wasn't a smooth ride home from the side of the road, because every step I took was like a hundred meter race through a river of mud that was knee high. If there was a bed next to the road at that time, I would have asked Jonno to head on home while I slept next to the monsoon drain. But home was only so short a distance away, and I had to make it home - I just had to. But next to the road, my body gave in and I started coughing out phlegm by the gallons, I'm sure. It took a few minutes for the tears to stop flowing and the heart rate to slow down, but the awful taste in my mouth lingered even when I slammed the door shut by the side of the curb in front of the guard house. Hot bathe and my comfortable bed awaited me back home, and nothing was going to stop me from that well-deserved sleep of mine, considering the fact that I actually survived the whole day without dying. But of course, the nightmare didn't end at home - which is why you are reading about my account right now, with me regurgitating my experience back out like those bodily fluids.
We said goodbye to each other, Jeannie and I. She was especially concerned about my illness, but then she is just the little miss sunshine that she is, always caring more about others than herself. It felt a little better with her presence on the other side of the computer screen, but that warmth was soon interrupted when I went to bed at one in the morning, after reading a few pages of a graphic novel I dug up from a box under my table. The attempt to sleep afterwards was rudely put to a halt when I had to rush to the bathroom as mentioned before, and it was certain one of the worst experiences of my life. I have spoke of the stroll to the brink of death, and that rush to the bathroom was definitely no less. And it happened a few more times, including the time right before I started on this sentence, triggered by a sneeze. Five balls on tissue paper crumpled up into a neat pile in front of me, I wonder when I am going to see the first drop of blood in this edgy white balls. Seems to be a very real possibility at the rate I am going.
Perhaps a new doctor tomorrow, or rather later today. I have fears that my plans for Taiwan is not going to work out with my illness carrying on like this. I can picture myself lying in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of my mouth and arms. Not a pretty sight, especially when everybody else is visiting other countries, backpacking and going on tours with friends. I have been waiting for this trip for too long, but my body doesn't seem to be cooperating very well. I have done everything there is to do, I wonder what else my body needs to get itself out of this mess. I need a cup of warm water, or maybe just a big warm hug from someone to tell me that everything is going to be alright. Of course, in order for that to happen, I am going to have to hang a sign on my chest that says "Not Contagious", because people would most definitely think that about me. It really isn't contagious, but at the same time I feel so alone in this matter. Especially at six in the morning, everything becomes especially quiet.
Oh, I hear a church bell tolling in the distance, it must be time for the rest of the world to wake up. I should be trying to sleep soon, try to find an upright position to sleep in. It's not like I haven't tried that out in the fields before. But there is just something about doing that at home that makes it extra ridiculous. Then again, if you think about it, nothing can be more ridiculous than lying in the middle of your bathroom with vomit all over the place - especially so when you haven't even tasted a single drop of alcohol for more than a year.
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12:22 AM
I feel you're misery. I am going through it now. What you wrote was right on. Trying to lay down to get some much needed sleep only to myself waking up feeling like I'm chocking. I'm on day 4 of my misery. Sleep deprived and missing work, not how I planned to start 2008.