In my own defense, I am an idiot. Wait, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is, when the doctor said I had pneumonia and started antibiotics on July 30, it was not unreasonable to assume I’d be fine by August 22. But there’s a lot more resistant bacteria around these days (don’t get me started on our society’s misuse of antibiotics) and I couldn’t foresee that the first course wouldn’t kill the little bastards. Or the second.
The good news is the latest lab results show we’ve (finally) murdered the offending bacteria, and the chest x-rays show the pneumonia has now resolved.
So, all good, but frankly I’m still disgusting. Doc says it’ll take another week or so to stop coughing gunk and regain strength to be in any position to host a party. We’re talking schedule with the pub and will let you know as soon as a new date is set.
Meanwhile, I beg you not to send me ‘get well’ comments – this is embarrassing enough already, fer gawd’s sake. I’m fine. I’ll just be sprawled on the couch watching Tottenham (Come On You Spurs).
Thanks for your understanding.