It started around early February. It began with a fungal infection in my throat and upper roof of my mouth. The specialist throat doctor (who looks sooooo much like the actor that played Dr. Kerev on Grey's Anatomy) told me it could be due to my asthma inhalers. Apparently, there's a certain ingredient in the asthma inhalers that would stick to your inner mouth/throat and that encourages the growth of bacteria/fungi. I did not know that. I went home after and took all my inhalers and saw that out of the 4 I had, 3 had expired. Least to say, I threw them out. I have not used any asthma inhaler since.
Two weeks went by and it had appeared that the fungal infection had almost been cured, though there were still a few signs in the mouth. However, now I had problems with my lungs and constantly had breathing problems. Dr. Kerev look-alike told me to go see the clinical doctor for that, which I did. Idiot clinical doctor made me take an xray of my chest and he agreed when I said I think my lungs were infected. I told him that my lungs were infected! So he gave my antibiotics to take.
Within the the third week, I really could not breathe well. Walking up steps made me dizzy and almost collapse from lack of air. I tried to explain my health situation to my boss, but before I can ever say anything, he'd cut in to tell me about how he's always having stomach aches lately, maybe due to the spicy food his wife keeps cooking. I gave up trying to talk to him about it. During this week, my colleague had taken a long vacation to spend time with his family, so I was left to do all the work. And the fact we had a visit by a VIP group from Malaysia that weekend added to my workload. Also, during this week, boss went to two meetings alone but made me write the reports. His excuse for not able to write the reports: Stomach ache. And then he had the cheek to tell me 2 days later that my report was wrong in one part but he had sent an amendment to the relevant party to correct my mistake. I told him, I wrote the report based on what he told me. I showed him what I wrote in my notepad based on what he told me. He said, that's not what he said. Next time, do your OWN report!! Jerk.
So that weekend of the third week, I was bedridden. By this time I can barely even get up from the bed. When I do, I'd faint (which I did maybe 3 times) or get really dizzy that I had to fall back on the bed and my vision became dark. This went on throughout the weekend. By Monday (thankfully a holiday for us) I forced myself to try moving around and eat some food (imagine lacking of appetite for three weeks, I had no energy in my body). That night, I smsed Shakhira, my "Argentine" gal pal (she's a Malaysian my age who married an Argentine and had moved to Argentina). I asked her if her husband can send me to the hospital, since my colleague never replied to my earlier sms to him.
Within 30 minutes she and Hugh (her husband) arrived. I only managed to change my shirts, grabbed my xray print, cellphone and wallet and we were off to the hospital. She made a comment that I looked pale and skeletal. So I explained to her of what happened. When we arrived at the hospital, she and I got out to the Emergency entrance, while Hugh went to park the car. She and I stood by the door where the counter was. Within 1 minute, I felt myself feeling dizzy and my vision dark and I felt myself falling down. Next thing I knew I was in an emergency room of the hospital. Doctors and nurses were around taking blood samples, trying to ask me questions, and my chest was xrayed. I don't know how long I was there, but all the while Shakhira and her husband never left. They took care of all the paperworks (Shahkira rummaged through my wallet and found the hospital card with my information). She and Hugh are now officially my guardian angels. I think it wasn't until a few hours later that my colleague arrived and he managed the paperworks.
It was concluded that I caught lung pneumonia.
Later that night, I was moved to an ICU room so they could monitor me properly. I spent several days in that ICU room, with an IV tube sticking into my arm and an oxygen mask to keep me breathing. Several people came to visit. Some I really don't mind not seeing. At one occasion, my boss and his wife came to see me. He asked if I had told my parents I was admitted into ICU. I specifically told him that I would tell them once I'm out of the hospital and everything is ok. He seemed to agree. It wasn't until later that I found out that my boss had written to the Human Resources at Headquarters and instructed them to inform my parents that I was in the ICU. I was pissed at him, but this was typical of my boss. He likes to poke his finger into other people's business and make himself look like a good guy. Oh, and someone told me much later that my boss had advised me many times to admit myself into the hospital, but that I didn't listen to his advises. What a jerk he is, he didn't even care about my health during those weeks I was forced to work. So, he's a jerk AND a liar. Fortunately, it was a good thing my HR was slow in acting upon his email and a good friend in HQ contacted me after I was discharged to tell me that HR asked her to call me to see how I was. She sounded more pissed than me, because she told HR to respect MY decision and that my boss had no right to instruct HQ to do anything that was against my wishes.
Anyway, I think I spent 6 days in the ICU, constantly being probed to take my blood, xrayed almost every day. I had started to look like the lost man of Borneo. My facial hair had grown out of control and my hair had resumed its scorpion form. Meanwhile, my teeth had not seen a toothbrush in days. I was thankful for the oxygen mask, because with that, no one was burdened to smell my bad breath. Oh, and by the way, peeing and pooing in bed using special formed trays are not comfortable, especially if the pee bottle is too small for my "load".
Ok, enough gross stuff. So, I think I was moved to the normal room ward around my 4th day. Not really sure, since time was lost on me. All the while, Shakhira came to visit me almost every day. Except one day she HAD to bring some Malaysians who were in Argentina for a 4WD expedition and they wanted to see how I was doing. I hate it when someone thinks they know everything and keep telling you about how to live your life. You should do this. You shouldn't do that. You got sick because of this. Not like they know exactly what was wrong with me. SHUT UP! And it's always the Malays (or in this case, Mamak). And one of those people even took photos of me while I was on the bed with the oxygen mask on, weak and sick and grossly looking. I cursed him. (Note: Later on the month, those people were involved in a car accident while returning from a casino on a rainy night. It was a bad accident, with one of them needing an operation. The guy that took my photo now himself was suffering with severe cuts to his face. So, as can be concluded, my curses work. Take note, people)
I was getting bored in the hospital. The food was disgusting (except when they served ice cream for dessert, which wasn't as much as I would like). Shakhira was the witness to all the gross food and we kept talking about the food we would prefer to eat. For some weird reason, we kept talking about cekodong pisang a lot. But I wasn't allowed outside food, so when my colleague's wife cooked a feast for me, I wasn't allowed to eat them. But, Shakhira was at hand to help me with that. Of course, she asked permission first.
One night, my boss sent me an sms telling me to email him my 3 draft reports that I was supposed to have completed by that week. He even said that his PA would go into my office computer to find the files. I told him the reports were in my home computer and that I was still in the hospital, but the moment I am discharged, I'll email him the drafts. The day I was discharged, first thing I did was to email him those drafts - 2 were 99% completed where only a few statistical data had to be inserted and 1 was 50% completed. 5 days later, the night before I went back to work, he smsed me again to tell me to finish the drafts. Which indicated he never did anything to the drafts. So why pressure me while I was sick to give you the drafts, knowing you'd ignore them anyway? JERK! Good thing for me, I managed to finish all the reports within a day. And when I gave him the final drafts, he made no changes in one report, made me insert one sentence in one report and made me add one paragraph in the third report. Conclusion: My boss will be in big trouble if he was left alone and had to do any reports, because his intellect does not allow him to think and write substantively.
Anyway, back to the hospital, I was set on getting out of the hospital fast. More and more, I'd try to get out of bed and walk around more in the room I was warded. Despite being so weak and having to pull around a pole with the IV drops tube attached, I managed to garner a little energy to my lungs. 3 days before I was discharged (again not really certain of time frame), the oxygen mask was replaced by the oxygen tube that went into my nostrils. The doctors wanted to discharge me within 4 days because they needed to see that I can go on without the oxygen tube. I proved them wrong. So, I was discharged a day before the doctors expected. I put on my clothes from the time I was warded and realized then how much weight I had lost. My shirt looked 2 sizes too big and my jeans kept falling down (I had forgotten to wear a belt when I went to the hospital). Before I left the hospital, i needed to get some shorts done, and believe you me, walking around with a loose pair of jeans is not funny.
I only spent 1 day alone at home. RAESB came by to be my own personal nurse to ensure I took all my meds and not have any more fainting sessions. If it wasn't for RAESB, I'd probably heal slower. So, thanks.
I spent the remaining days of the week resting at home. We'd walk the streets around my apartment to increase my energy and make my lungs stronger. That never worked, as a matter of fact, it just made me pant and huff and puff due to lake of oxygen. And it didn't help that my apartment is located on top of a small hill so walking up takes a lot out of me.
By next week, I was back to work. As I expected, the papers waiting for me were high. I went through some and realized that most of them were simple matters that the boss's PA herself can do. But, of course, he had to minute them to me. It took me 2 days to go through all the papers (sorry to our Trade Commissioner in Santiago who got a majority of emails from me related to work). Of course, boss seemed nonchalant about me being back and ordered me more work to do. Sigh.
I'm ok now. Just recovered from a nasty cold. Still on meds until my lungs are strong enough. I lost 11kgs throughout my health scare months causing RAESB to be mad, because we now weigh the same). Back to work with so much administrative and financial matters to handle - not really the "glamorous" work that people associate my job with. Today, I finally got my appetite back and am constantly hungry. Good thing tonite, I have an invite from a Malaysian family to come eat at their home. Finally, real food!
So, thanks for all who came to visit me in the hospital. Thanks to all my friends who messaged me via Facebook (being absent a day from FACEBOOK makes people worry, it seems). Thanks to Shakhira and Hugh for always being there for me (Shakhira even made sure she came to visit me even though Hugh had a knee operation during my final days in the hospital). But most of all, thanks to RAESB who came all the way to Buenos Aires to make sure I healed well and not alone at home.
Ok, it's 2:00pm now and I'm starting to think what to eat . . .
.JPG)
.JPG)
