on pneumonia, farewells, breast implants and grief

Might as well go ahead and make this a things post.  We'll call it "as many things as I want Wednesday."  In order...

1. I had quite a bad cold the first 2-2.5 weeks I was living in Colorado.  You'll remember me complaining about it right after I moved.  I didn't go to the doctor because while I'm not sick all that often, when I do go, I inevitably end up spending $15 for someone to tell me to go back to bed.  My mom (a registered nurse) told me a couple of times that I should go because of how sick I was for so many days, and I made a half-hearted attempt to find a doctor through the impenetrable network of insurance and doctors while traveling, but ended up just staying in bed for four solid days.  I came out the other side healthy and raring to get going on my training.
As you may know, especially if you follow me on Twitter, I had a holiday party last Saturday night and a farewell party this Saturday night which included what I would consider more than a normal amount of alcohol consumption.  Now, I'm not going to pretend that I don't drink at all, ever, because I do enjoy a beer or a glass of wine here and there, but the amount of alcohol that I consumed over these two weeks far exceeds my normal partaking.
Why am I bringing this up?  Well, Monday night after dinner I had a little tickle in my throat, which turned into waking up in the middle of the night shaking with the chills.  I got up and discovered that I had a fever of 101º.  I have never gotten so sick so quickly in my life.  Monday afternoon I was fine, Monday night I was awful.  I called my mom in the morning who used her Stern Voice to send me straight to the doctor, where they listened to my lungs and took a chest x-ray and then diagnosed me with pneumonia.

I'm not a doctor and won't pretend to be one, but apparently after having some kind of infection - upper respiratory, bronchitis, whatever - you can get pneumonia if you trash your immune system with alcohol weren't treated with antibiotics.  At least I think that's what he said.  Regardless, here I am, listening to fluid slosh around in my chest while packing the final boxes in my house and preparing to spend a week in flux, with at least three of those days in the car.  Someone should probably go hug my husband.
It was probably a good wake-up call for me, a sentiment with which Sonja VERY VERY VERY strongly agrees.  I'm a little concerned about what it's going to do to marathon training, but I made a promise after she put me on probation to use this time off from training to kick-start my normal healthy eating habits again.  Lots of water, lots of veggies, no crap.  And here we go.

2. I'm not good at saying goodbye.  I'm not really good at showing emotion in general, and this week has been pretty tough.  I've made sure to have a special date with all of my closest friends, and I'm glad that I had the time to do so, but it's also really hard to say these farewells.  I know that we chose this journey and that this is the best decision for our lives, and I'm happy about moving.  But I've had these women in my life for one or two or ten years, and I don't like knowing that they are not right around the corner anymore.  This part is just plain old sad.  

3. When I was reading through the radiologist's report yesterday, I was shocked to discover something about myself that I had never known.
It took me a minute, too.  I told the nurse that no, I don't have implants, and she asked me if I was sure.  Interesting.  Regardless, they re-checked all the numbers on all the files to make sure there wasn't a mix-up, and there wasn't, and she told me that I probably just have "great boobs."  Um, I'm fairly certain that's neither the answer nor the case.  Ahh, urgent care, you never fail to make me laugh.

4. A lot of bloggers chose a lot of different responses to the tragedy that has recently happened in our country, and most of them have been blasted for their actions, regardless of what they were or how sincere their intentions.  I will say only this: I don't believe that you need to announce your silence to make it meaningful.  I don't believe that you have to broadcast your feelings for them to be validated.  I have been a little horrified by the spectacle that I've witnessed in the media and, in part, on social media - less so by bloggers, more so by major news outlets.  Grief is a very personal thing, and there are an infinite number of ways to send thought and prayer and support and love to those grieving.  Sit with your loved ones, pray to whatever higher power you believe in, and try to contribute to healing in whatever ways you are able - without asking for retweets.