So where were we?

Ok I'll try to keep this as short as possible. Let me start with a brief description of what appeared to happen then I will follow with an explanation of what really went on. I hope that makes sense.

Roughly ten days ago, after noticing my breathing deteriorate, I realised I had been using an empty inhaler for possibly three or four days. The inhaler is specifically designed to manage the symptoms of emphysema. It's for long term use, unlike the blue Ventolin usually used by asthmatics for immediate effect on chronic symptoms. I sometimes use the Ventolin too if I get breathless.

Ok so no problem I had a new one at the ready and started on that . . . By last Saturday morning things were not improving, I checked my inhaler and discovered I had thrown the new one in the bin and was still using the empty one!! I know, I know, hard to believe but true. It isn't a spray inhaler or a cfc one. It has a block of the effective drug in the bottom and when you twist it, it grinds a small amount of this drug which you then inhale hard and fast . . . There is no taste, only effect.

Stropster came in from work last Saturday, went through the outdoor bin for me and found the new inhaler . . . which I immediately double dosed on to try and get some "lungs" back. By Sunday morning my neck, face and head were swollen. My head was hurting so much I couldn't touch it and everyone except me seemed to think I might need an ambulance. I was extremely confused and began to think I was de-hydrated. I would not listen to anyone. By Tuesday the Dr had called and prescribed strong anti-bios for what she had diagnosed "over the phone" as a chest infection. She thought maybe the head pains were from over compensating with the inhaler.  She thought wrong.
Apart from my head hurting to the touch all over there were random stabbing pains across my head  and eyes at varying intervals and a dull throbbing at the top of my neck. . . Awful. Frightening.

I was in bed until this morning. I couldn't get up, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think straight and couldn't reason. It didn't feel like my usual "chest infection" as I have specific physiotherapy to do when I get an infection to clear the damaged lung, as it can't clear itself. This didn't seem to be making any difference. My lung wasn't hurting. My trachea was and my head was. Also the anti-bios didn't seem to be "kicking in".

I prayed for the strength to say no to gear and for the first time in twelve years I chose not to use. Last night when I realised this prayer had worked I prayed to be a little better this morning so I wouldn't be sent to hospital and so I could care for the kids. I woke up and didn't think I felt better but within an hour or so I found myself in the kitchen (downstairs for the first time) putting on the washing . . . Then washing up . . . Then changing the bedding. The head pains had gone. I was still very short of breath but I persevered, partly in case I had to go to hospital so things would be in order at home.
The Surgery phoned to cancel my morning appointment due to snow but transferred me to another Dr for 4.10pm. By the time 4pm came I had swept, mopped, vacuumed, cleaned bathroom, toilet etc etc. It's amazing how dirty things can get when I have a week off. I had caught up on at least 5 loads of washing . . . and realised that once again my prayers had been answered. Sorry this was meant to be short.

So off I went to the Dr . . . I explained all of the above to her. A very understanding, non-judgemental middle aged woman. She listened thoroughly to both my story and my lungs, then the trachea area. She checked my throat. Good lord! She almost jumped . . . That's where the infection had got in . . . from my inhaler that had spent four days in the bin!! So far the infection hasn't gone to my lungs, which I suspected, its all in the trachea/primary bronchi area, which is why the physio was not helping. It's also why my head was in screaming pain as the infection tried to spread elsewhere . . . And for every anti-bio I took, I also took two huge great puffs on the offending dirty inhaler. So that's safely back in the bin now and I have a  new one.

The Dr was shocked when I said this was me "almost better, well on the mend". . . to the extent that I had just cleaned the house. She couldn't understand how I had got through a week in bed so seriously ill and hadn't let someone call an ambulance. She doesn't know how scared I am of hospitals. Or how scared I am of dying there. She said I'd been "lucky" to fight this and "lucky" that it hadn't gone to my lungs . . . but it still could. She made me promise I would come home, go to bed and rest for at least three more days. I said Yes . . . Once I've got the clean bedding back on all the beds. She laughed. I laughed. I was going home again . . . I could laugh.

So there we have it . . . Clean house! clean bedding! clean me!! Hallelujah I say! I'd be bloody rude not to really wouldn't I?